Final Fantasy VIII : The Second Sorceress War
by Lynnwood
Summary: How differently would Seifer Almasy's life have been if he graduated to SeeD with the others? If it wasn't him that Ultemecia chose to bring to her side that fateful day in Timber? What if it had been Quistis instead? SeixQ, SqxR SelxI, ZxLG
1. Prologue : Rivals

**Preface**

I don't own anything having to do with Final Fantasy 8. All characters, plots, dialogue, places and terms belong to Square-Enix and all related affiliates.

This fic is a 'what if' I decided to do, as described in the summary. I believe that-fundamentally—the characters of Seifer and Squall were very similar other than a few key differences in personality and differences in circumstance. What makes Seifer such an interesting villain would also make for a very interesting hero as well, and one of the biggest tragedies—to me—in the FF8 storyline was his misguided dream of being a knight. So I decided to—essentially—re-write the story of FF8 my own way.

This fic will follow the tale of FF8 from beginning to end. I've done an extremely goober thing and played through the game while copying all of the dialogue, in the hopes of keeping certain parts of this fic as accurate as possible. Some will be exactly the same as the game, some will be completely different while others will only be modified slightly. The single biggest difference from the game to this story is—besides Seifer's presence—the role of GFs. Instead of having a large communal pool of GFs that are junctioned to whoever, in this fic there will be one GF for each person. The GF chooses the subject, and bonds with them, in essence taking over a piece of their brain—hence explaining the loss of memories. I've also taken certain items and ideas and made them more . . . realistic I guess is how you'd describe it. For example, a "Phoenix Down" is not a mystical feather one showers over a KO'd teammate. Instead it is the codename given to a cocktail of fluids in a four and a half inch needle one can inject directly into the heart of a nearly-dead comrade that will keep their vitals alive and functioning until more professional help can be given.

Hopefully this will make for an interesting read.

The main pairing of this fic will be Seifer and Quistis of course, but as I'm writing the game, it will also have major Squall and Rinoa as well, with a little Zell/Library Girl and Selphie/Irvine thrown in for flavor. This fic will be rated M for mature due to violence, language and adult situations. Any NC-17 sections will be removed due to FF(dot)net's policies. If so, I will inform the reader when and where a section has been removed and how you might contact me to get the unedited version of that chapter.

If any of this upsets or offends you, then do us both a favor and don't read this fic. Move on to something else. If it does strike your fancy, then by all means, continue. Review if the mood strikes you, I love to hear feedback from my readers.

Enjoy.

–_Lynnwood_

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**Prologue**

_Rivals_

Lightening flashed in the predawn hours of Balamb Island.

Thunder rolled ominously, making the perfect backdrop to the fierce battle waging on the rocks of the Alcauld Plains, near the Fire Cavern—appropriately named due to the intense volcanic activity within. The thick humid air was split by the _clang _of metal striking metal, the crunch of heavy boots moving through gravel, and an occasional hiss or grunt of exertion from the two teens waging their own personal war. There were no words spoken. There never were. In times like these, words would have been too harsh. Too cheap.

The combatants shifted back in forth in a lethal dance, trading blows as others might trade conversation.

One was of average height, a mop of sandy brown hair falling disheveled over his brow and ears and into a pair of steely blue eyes, wearing black jeans, a white t-shirt and a black coat on over it, the neck rimmed in white fur. A choker-style necklace hung from his neck and swayed with his movements, a large Griever pendant on the end that fell to his sternum which matched the one hanging from his weapon perfectly. This one wielded a sleek Revolver model gunblade with both hands; the handle black, the blade a flashing silver as it reflected the sporadic flashes of lightening above.

The other was tall, his dark golden hair cut short and slicked back with only a few tendrils daring to defy conformation and falling forward onto his brow, over his flashing emerald eyes. He wore a blue vest trimmed in white, a pair of black slacks and his trademark gray trench-coat, the arms emblazoned in slightly faded red Fire Crosses—an emblem of a long forgotten era. Around his neck wound a silver plate on a thick chain, resting in the hollow of his throat. This boy wielded a wickedly jagged Hyperion model gunblade with one hand—his right—while using his other hand to tauntingly summon his opponent forward, a smirking smile on his face.

The Lion rushed forward at this baiting gesture, his handsome face fixed into a scowl of concentration. Right at the last minute, the Dragon fell back a step, and opened the palm of his free hand. He whispered the words of magic, and too late did the Lion realize his plan. He raised his gunblade to somewhat block the small fireball that struck him full in the chest. The Lion was thrown backward onto his back, cinders and flame raining around him. He shook his head slightly to clear it, dazed, rolling up to his knees and reaching for his blade.

Thus he never saw it coming as the Dragon moved in for the kill. The deadly-sharp blade of Hyperion whistled through the air as it made a vicious downward arc. The Lion's face was thrown to the side with the impact, and crimson splattered the ground below him from the mark that had just been made on his face, right between his eyes. A wound meant to embarrass, not to kill. It also threw his opponent off balance. Eyes narrowed, teeth grit now into a snarl, the Lion wrenched back straight with blood pouring down his face. In one swift move he got his feet, then pulled his gunblade up in the same motion, the metal sparking off the ground and then swinging around in a perfectly executed uppercut—catching his overbalanced opponent in the same exact spot.

They were equals, after all. Rivals. Should one gain the upper hand for long, the balance would be forever broken. Who knew what fate would have in store for them then?


	2. Chapter 1 : Aftermath

**Chapter One**

_Aftermath_

Seifer Almasy hissed in abject discomfort as Fujin put the Antidote-soaked white rag on his face.

"SORRY," she announced in her usual, forceful tone, her stone-faced expression betraying no such sympathy. Her one gray eye—the one not covered by a black patch—was fixed determinedly to her work, her lips pursed in concentration. The huge hulk behind her wrung his hands in worry.

"I still can't believe you went and got yourself marked like that, ya know?" Raijin announced for the fiftieth time. "Right in the face too. That's gotta be embarrassing, ya know? It'll probably leave a scar, ya know?"

Fujin's good eye narrowed with annoyance, and thus her hands—already on the firm and ungentle side—became just a little more unloving with her upset. Seifer hissed again, then turned to give his other friend a furious glare—or as furious as one could look with an Antidote-soaked rag in your face.

"Raij?" he called, and anyone else would have tensed with worry at the gravely anger in his tone. Raijin just turned to pin him with a more focused stare, eyebrows raised—the hoop piercing his right one glinting in the light of his and Seifer's dorm room.

"Yeah Seif?" he returned.

"Shut up."

Raijin's expectant face fell somewhat at the rebuke, but he sighed and complied with Seifer's mandate. For all of about two minutes. Then he started in again as Fujin began doing her best to mop up the dried blood from his face.

"Been hearin' rumors, ya know. They say that the next field exam for SeeD candidacy is going to start sometime this afternoon. Heard the Headmaster just accepted a mission out of the Galbadia region, ya know. My money's on Dollet. Maybe this time you can actually pass the test, ya know."

Seifer gave his buddy another hot glare, which Raijin did an admirable job of completely ignoring, rambling on.

"Those first two times were flukes, ya know. But third time's the charm as my granddad always used to say. Then you'll be a SeeD like us, ya know. Get to have your own room and everything, ya know."

Fujin finally finished with her cleaning, then held her hand out to him and her one eye closed.

"CURE!"

Seifer winced again as the pure magic adrenaline entered his blood stream. His forehead began tingling as the flesh sealed and knitted together, the area growing warm. He reached up to finger the area when the tingling stopped, and frowned as his fingers met a diagonal line of scar tissue that had not been there before. Raijin and Fujin stood back and gave him a once over. Fujin's expression was bland as always, while Raijin made a face and shook his head.

"Marked, ya know. Right between the eyes. Can't get more embarrassing than that, ya know?"

Fujin spun around and then delivered a sharp kick to his shins, which had Raijin hopping in place and letting out a loud yelp. "QUIET!" she demanded firmly. Seifer's expression was grim as he got to his feet and then grabbed his worn gray coat.

"Leonhart's got one just like it, Raij," he announced with a perverse satisfaction in his tone. "We're even. Now c'mon. I gotta get to homeroom on time or else I'll have to listen to Trepe's whiney bitching all morning."

Elsewhere in Balamb Garden, Squall Leonhart lay back on an examination bed, one arm behind his head. He barely stirred when the portly doctor, Lidia Kadowaki, entered the room. The middle-aged woman had her black hair pulled back into a haphazard bun, wearing a long blue skirt and a button-up shirt underneath her white lab coat. She came to his bedside in her usual no-nonsense manner, flashing a small light in his eyes without preamble, causing him to wince in discomfort. When he would have closed them, her thumb caught his eyelid and forced it wide, studying his pupil dilation apparently—whether he liked it or not.

"How are you feeling?" she questioned briskly as she did so.

"Ok," he replied, his voice as neutral as always, almost deadpan. Kadowaki's expression tightened with disapproval.

"Take it easy next time, you hear? Looks like your eyes are focusing." She let him go and straightened, tucking the light pen back in her pocket, then picked up his chart and began jotting down a few notes. "You should be fine." She stopped, then met his steady stare. "Say your name for me."

Squall barely contained the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he dutifully replied, "Squall Leonhart." The doctor nodded, and wrote down a few more things, then sighed and set his chart aside.

"Why don't you take it easy in training? Next time you might not be so lucky."

Squall snorted, turning his stare back to the ceiling. "Tell that to Seifer."

Now the doctor clucked like an angry mother hen. "That Seifer . . . Won't listen to anyone. Why don't you ignore him?" Squall kept staring at the ceiling.

"Can't just run away," he murmured noncommittally. Kadowaki's snort was derisive this time.

"You wanna be cool, huh? Well don't get hurt in the process." She sighed again. "Let's see, your instructor is . . . Quistis!" she suddenly exclaimed, remembering. Kadowaki turned and began for the door. "I'll call her now. Just wait here a minute."

Squall remained unmoving as Kadowaki left the exam room and then headed for her desk just outside. He heard her pick up the phone and punch in a number. A moment later the doctor's voice could be heard speaking to Instructor Trepe.

"Quistis? Come get your student. Yes, yes . . . his injury's not serious. It'll probably leave a scar . . . Right, right. Now please come by."

Squall heaved a sigh, shifting a little in the bed, one leg drawn up with his foot planted while the other stretched out before him. It was a stupid rule, having to wait for his Instructor to come pick him up like some errant child. Probably the reason why Seifer had opted not to come to the infirmary, and instead slunk off into the dorms to see to his wound himself. Squall's frown deepened. He would've done the same had he had the capability. If there was one thing he hated most in this world it was having to depend on others for help. He had made a vow at a very young age to become self-sufficient in every way. A quick thinker and a strong warrior, he set out to perfect his abilities in every area of SeeD training so that one day he would rely on no one save himself.

Relying on others only got you hurt . . . .

Squall tensed as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw a strange woman standing at the window adjoining the two examination rooms of the infirmary. She wore an ankle-length white skirt and a blue sleeveless polo shirt with a matching white collar, and a lime-green airy wrapper looped loosely through her arms. She was pretty enough he supposed, with dark brown hair cut in a bob style that framed her heart-shaped face and large, soft brown eyes. She seemed older than his own seventeen years—perhaps in her early twenties. She had crouched down slightly and stared directly at him, a strange, mysterious smile on her face. She said something, though he couldn't hear and wasn't proficient enough in reading lips to translate what it was.

And then she straightened and turned away just as the infirmary doors hissed open. Squall glanced forward to see Instructor Trepe enter, and when he turned back to the exam room the mystery woman was gone.

The tall, slim blonde Instructor stepped forward and stopped when she caught sight of him lounging inside. She was dressed prim and properly in her black SeeD uniform—every seam in place and pressed to perfection. Her lemon-blonde hair was pulled up in her usual style—the bangs allowed to hang loose past her shoulders and frame her face with the rest pulled up and clipped to the back of her head and out of her way. She put her hands on her hips, ice-blue eyes rolling heavenward behind her thin silver glasses before she sighed and then centered her gaze on him again. Her lips pulled into an exasperated smile, one he didn't return.

If anything, the fact that Quistis Trepe seemed to show a less-than-professional interest in him only annoyed the hell out of Squall. It was a complication he didn't need, and sure as hell didn't appreciate getting either teased the hell out of by guys like Seifer because of it or receiving death-threats from her psychotic cult; the Trepies as they called themselves. There were hundreds of the creeps. How she put up with that crap, he'd never know.

Quistis came into the exam room and leaned down over him, giving him a half-stern, half-playful glare. "I knew it'd be either you or Seifer!"

Squall masked his irritation behind his ever-present mask of blandness, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side in preparation of getting up. Quistis stepped back accordingly.

"Come on, let's go. Today's the field exam."

Squall gave her a sharp look as he stood. She had already turned away and started for the door. His frown deepened. Instructors weren't supposed to leak that kind of information. Sure, Trepe was only a year older than him, but she was the epitome of professional and in control despite her age. At least until it came to him. Squall sighed distastefully. He didn't want to be treated special or given favors.

He followed after her as she led the way out of the infirmary, waving half-heartedly at Dr. Kadowaki's good-bye. They walked down the purple hall for several moments in silence, then,

"Squall, is there something on your mind?" He glared ahead, not turning. Another one of Trepe's annoying habits—doing her damndest to try and get inside his head and figure him out. She couldn't just leave well enough alone.

He opened his mouth to reply, "not really," but was stunned when she spoke at the same time, saying the same exact thing that he did. Trepe stopped walking and started chuckling to herself. Squall was forced to do the same, pivoting on his heel and giving her an annoyed stare. "What's so funny?"

Quistis waved him down, but kept chuckling. "Funny? No, no, it's not that! I'm just happy! I feel like I'm beginning to understand my student a little, that's all."

Squall scowled, then spun back around. "I'm more complex than you think." He tensed when he felt the pressure of her hand suddenly on his shoulder.

"Oh really?" she called after a moment. "Then tell me." Something in his tense posture must have revealed his discomfort at her touch, for she withdrew it again after a slight hesitation. Then she continued with, "tell me more about yourself."

Squall started walking again and a moment later he heard the click of her heeled boots heralding the fact that she followed after him.

Finally he replied, "It's none of your—."

"Business!" she abruptly interrupted.

Squall just trudged ahead, doing his best to ignore her chortling laughter and the stares he drew because of it on his way to the elevator.

Inside the classroom Seifer lounged in his seat at the back of the room. No one dared incur his wrath by trying to sit with him at his terminal, therefore he was free to sling one arm insolently over the back of the head-rest. His hand tapped the back restlessly as he eyed the clock, expression annoyed. He had hot-footed it over here for nothing. Ten minutes after the bell and Trepe still wasn't here. Neither was Leonhart. No doubt the former was picking up the latter from the infirmary and escorting him to class. Seifer couldn't contain a smirk at the thought of Squall having to endure being led through the halls like a Junior Classman. The image did wonders for his souring mood.

Right at that moment the classroom door opened and in walked the object of his thoughts. He ignored the stares and whispers that lit up at his arrival, trudging back to the back of the class to the only other empty terminal—the one right across from Seifer's own. He shifted his gaze from the floor only once—to lock onto Seifer's own laughing one—before he turned his stare back down. Seifer sighed in satisfaction at the sight of the thin pink scar that now slashed diagonally across Squall's pretty-boy face, starting over his right eye and going across the bridge of his nose, stopping beneath his left. Seifer's own went the other direction, starting above his left eye and ending below his right.

Rumors were already flying around like crazy about their unsanctioned battle earlier that morning. By the end of the day it would be the stuff of legends.

Seifer's attention was shifted as Trepe—who had entered into the room behind her student—began speaking.

"Good morning, class. Let's start with today's schedule." She headed for her desk and sat down, adjusting her glasses. Most of the room was rapt, only two remained immune. Seifer rolled his eyes and leaned back into a more comfortable position at his desk, while Squall sat heavily in his seat and then proceeded to stare down at his terminal, head bowed. "There seem to have been some rumors flying around since yesterday. Yes, the field exam for SeeD candidates will begin later this afternoon." She was interrupted briefly by excited shifting and murmuring among the student body. One swift look from those icy orbs of hers had the room back under swift control, however. "Those not participating and those who failed last week's written test are to remain here in study hall. Field exam participants will have free time until the exam. Just be sure you're in top condition. Meet in the hall at 1600 hours. I'll announce the team assignments there. Any questions?"

There were none, so she nodded. She seemed about to continue, then her gaze suddenly snapped onto him. Even from across the room, Seifer felt the weight of her disapproving look as if it were a tangible thing on his shoulders. And nothing served to piss him off more effectively than one of Trepe's snotty glares.

"Oh, and Seifer!" she suddenly called, her tone turning to that brittle frost that she always used when addressing him. "Do _not _injure your partner while training. Be careful from now on."

Seifer felt his eyes narrow, his temper boiling. Like Squall was the only one with a fucking scar on his face this morning. He turned to give his rival a glare, his fist thumping ineffectually on the surface of his terminal. Squall continued to stare at his desk, not looking up. Seifer sneered. No doubt Trepe had coddled her precious student all the way out of the infirmary, cooing about his injury and promising retribution to the mean old evil Seifer for having done it. Who gave a shit that Squall had given just as well as he got.

Anyone with eyes in their head could see that the Instructor had a thing for Leonhart, Hyne strike him down if Seifer could ever understand why, though. Squall gave her no indication that her feelings were shared or—hell—even cared two shits about. If Seifer didn't know him any better—and he liked to think that out of everyone he perhaps had the greatest understanding of the enigmatic youth—he'd suspect that Leonhart was gay, for all the attention he gave the female populace. Only the fact that he didn't pay any attention to guys either refuted the rumor.

Yet still Trepe chased after him like a little bitch in heat, showing deference and favoritism to Squall in every regard. Squall could do no wrong in Trepe's eyes.

And Seifer could do no right. For someone who sometimes thrived off of attention, to be so completely ignored in favor of someone else really rubbed him the wrong way. One could speculate that that was why he made himself such an absolute menace in her class. If he couldn't get her attention by being good, then he sure as hell would get her attention by being the worst he could manage.

"Field exam participants, I will see you all later," Quistis suddenly announced, dismissing those that were free to go. Seifer got to his feet. "And Squall, I need to talk to you."

Perversely Seifer leaned down to Leonhart as he passed with a sneering grin, and murmured in a falsetto voice that only Squall could hear, mimicking Trepe, "take me Squall! Take me hard!"

The only hint to Squall's anger was an imperceptible stiffening of his shoulders and a tightening of his fists. Seifer just snickered, then straightened and strolled out of the room. Trepe's ever-disapproving stare followed him out and Seifer gave her a mocking salute just to piss her off before he exited the classroom entirely.

Seifer swept through the halls, most of the kids crowding the way being intelligent enough to get out of his path. If being 6'2" inches tall and every inch wrought in iron-toned muscle wasn't enough of a deterrent, his belligerent reputation and the fact that he was the head of the Disciplinary Committee was plenty to earn him a measure of respect from his fellow students.

Seifer made his way to the elevator, meeting up with Raijin and Fujin on the way, and the three of them headed for the cafeteria for a late breakfast—or early lunch, however one wanted to look at it.

Meanwhile Squall got to his feet and—after giving himself a moment to compose his anger at Seifer's taunt—walked forward to meet with his Instructor. Trepe had come out from behind the desk and was lending a polite ear to three of her Trepies. As he neared she excused herself and they moved away toward the door. Only Quistis seemed not to notice their death-glares boring holes into Squall's head.

"You haven't been to the Fire Cavern yet, have you?" He shook his head and she sighed. "You won't be able to take part in today's exam if you don't pass this prerequisite."

Squall crossed his arms, feeling his face pull into a scowl. _I was gonna go this morning, but Seifer . . . ._

Trepe's eyebrow quirked at his brooding expression. "Hm? Do you have a good excuse?" Squall uncrossed his arms and carefully wiped his face clean of all expression. He ignored her slight frown in return.

"Not really." She heaved a sigh, then straightened and became all business once again.

"Then let's get going." Something in his expression must have revealed his distaste at the thought of her accompanying him, though she misread it. "If you're not too confident yet," she murmured, "you can review your studies at the study panel. I'll be waiting for you at the front gate, some come down when you're ready."

Squall stalked from the classroom then, ignoring the Trepies on his way out. Great. Perfect. Just what he needed to make his day even more piss-poor. As if Hyne were having a big huge laugh at his expense, right as he neared the hall for the elevator he heard a sing-song voice crying, "I'm late, I'm late, _I'm late!!! Waaah!" _just before the owner of that voice abruptly ran right into him full tilt. The impact threw him back a couple of steps, though luckily he managed to keep his footing. The girl who'd run into him wasn't so lucky, and flew back on the floor on her back.

Squall straightened again, saying nothing as the girl slowly pushed herself up from her prone position on the floor. She was on the short and tiny side, so it was no wonder she had been thrown back at their impact. She was dressed in a standard Balamb Garden student uniform, her chestnut hair cut in a bouncy flip. She held her head for a minute, and when she managed to regain her feet and turn to him it revealed her eyes to be large and of a clear green shade.

"There. Whew. Sorry about that, I was kinda in a hurry," she announced in a cheery rush, then hopped in place, as if to test herself. Then the girl suddenly centered her gaze on him again. "Oh yeah! Hey, did you just come from that class?" Squall nodded somewhat hesitantly. Her wide green eyes got even bigger in a look of almost comical dread. "Is . . . homeroom over?" He nodded again, and her whole face fell. "Woo . . . Oh, nooo! This place is soooo much bigger than my last Garden!" She pouted for a moment longer, then all of a sudden she brightened again and whirled on him, expression expectant and overly cheery. Squall couldn't help but feel slightly out of sorts. This girl seemed to be moving and talking at a hundred miles an hour, changing moods as swiftly as the winds changed direction. Only a few minutes in her company and already his head was starting to hurt. "Oh, hey, hey. I just transferred here. Do you think you could give me a quick tour of this Garden?"

Having utterly no desire or intention of doing so, Squall shook his head. "Don't have the time," he murmured blandly. She pouted again.

"Oh, bummer. That's too bad." Then she sighed and gave him a friendly wave. "Well, see ya!" Then she took off, skipping toward Trepe's homeroom class. Squall was left standing and staring after her for a moment, still somewhat flummoxed, before he shook himself free of it and moved on. He planned to stop in the cafeteria and get a quick bite to eat before he met Trepe down at the gate. He hadn't eaten anything yet today, and his stomach was starting to growl in abject protest.

The entire Disciplinary Committee was standing at the drink machine near the entrance when Squall strolled into the cafeteria a few minutes later, Seifer with his two best friends Fujin—an eighteen year old female with short-cropped platinum hair and only one eye—and Raijin—an enormous muscle-bound black teen with very short black hair and more muscle than brain power. Fujin and Raijin weren't so bad on their own. They were low-ranking SeeDs, having just graduated last year. Seifer would have graduated with them if he'd managed to pass the field exam. Yet Seifer would have to let go of his enormous ego long enough for that to happen.

He sighed. Headmaster Cid must have the world's most perverse sense of ironic humor, to have named someone like Seifer Almasy as the head of the Disciplinary Committee. Almasy was known to be one of the biggest hellions and trouble-makers Balamb Garden had ever seen. Then again, Squall supposed it would take a good trouble-maker to know one. And also maybe Cid had named Seifer as such in the hopes that giving him some leadership and responsibility would breed more of the same qualities. Perhaps there was some deep and scary logic behind the choice. Though really, Squall could care less at the end of the day.

"SEIFER," Fujin suddenly called, turning to him. "DRINK?"

Seifer didn't reply, merely settled with giving Squall a sour look, which annoyed him to no end. If anyone should be pissed right now, it was him. What had he ever done to incite Seifer's wrath? Nothing that he was aware of. Raijin's voice suddenly cut through the tension.

"Can I drink somethin'? I'd like some water, ya know." Fujin turned to him, her face even more bland than Squall's.

"IGNORE."

No one knew for sure why Fujin acted and spoke the way she did, in short one-word responses in such a monotone, emotionless voice. There were rumors that her parents had been high-up in a Deling City crime family, and that Fujin had witnessed their rather violent and grisly murder—an occasion that had also cost her her left eye. For whatever reason, Fujin had been in residence at Garden from the age of eleven and had acted the same for the past seven years.

Squall stepped forward toward the lunch lines and Raijin noticed him. He turned with a grin. "Yo, it's Squall!" He motioned toward the drink machine. "Oh yeah, Fujin's gonna treat, ya know? Want somethin'?"

"RAGE!" Squall took a cautious step backward as Fujin suddenly stomped over and then hauled back and delivered a stiff kick to Raijin's shins. The hulking teen grabbed at his wounded leg and hopped around on the other. Seifer remained silent throughout the entire exchange, his gaze elsewhere and thoughts as well, it seemed. Raijin finally came to a stop near Squall, then put his hand to the side of his mouth nearest a scowling Fujin and whispered in an overly loud voice.

"Squall, Fujin's kinda harsh at times, so you betta watch it too, ya know?" Fujin's scowl deepened.

"WHAT?"

Raijin straightened with a jerk, then waved his hands in front of him. "O-Oh! I-It's nothin'!" he lied rather badly. Fujin pinned her narrow-eyed stare on him for a moment longer, then decided it wasn't worth it apparently and turned away. Raijin visibly slumped with relief.

Just then all of their attention was shifted as a blonde teen about Squall's age suddenly ran in to the cafeteria full tilt. He rushed right up to the lunch line, then stopped and doubled over, gasping for air like a landed fish. Squall nearly rolled his eyes. Zell Dincht, he was in his grade—if not in any of his classes. Dincht was pretty well known around Garden, friendly enough—if a bit of a motor-mouth. He was dressed for the upcoming exam in a standard student uniform, his pale blonde hair spiking up ridiculously in front but with a wicked-looking black tribal-style tattoo framing his left eye and cheek. A pile of contradictions, that one. It was rumored that Dincht had more of a natural hand-to-hand fighting talent than anyone Balamb Garden had ever seen . . . but he was also reported to be one of the biggest whiners and cry-babies as well.

Go figure.

After a moment Dincht recovered enough to straighten a little and pin the slightly startled lunch lady with a pleading look.

"D-Do you have any . . (gasp) . . hot dogs left?"

The woman winced. "You're a bit late I'm afraid. We're all sold out!" Dincht slumped, fists hanging loosely.

"Damn!" he hissed. "Not again! It's hopeless if you don't get here early." He straightened and gave the apologetic woman a smile. "Alright, I'll try again next time."

With that the teen turned on his heel, stuffed his hands into the back pockets of his pants and then strolled back out again. On his way the cafeteria lady called after him,

"I'll try to order more, but there's no guarantee!"

All four of them had remained silent throughout this entire exchange, their expressions varying from bland interest to disbelief to out-in-out disgust. After a moment Seifer's distasteful scowl melded into a predatory grin.

" . . . Speeding. Let's go arrest that student for violation of academy regulations." Then he took off after the unfortunate Dincht. Squall almost felt sorry for him. If there was one person in Garden whom Seifer took more sadistic delight in torturing the hell out of besides him, it'd be Dincht.

"AFFIRMATIVE," Fujin agreed, taking off after their leader.

"Roger, ya know!" Raijin was quick to second, doing the same.


	3. Chapter 2 : Preliminaries

**Chapter Two**

_Preliminaries_

Squall approached the volcanic Fire Cavern several hours later, still chaffing somewhat at Quistis' question a moment ago. She'd asked him if knew how to use his gunblade properly! _Concerned, _she'd said. Yeah, right. She'd just been pissed that he'd left her waiting at the front gate while he got something to eat. Squall's face was set into a stern frown as he strode down the path toward the two robed Garden Faculty members standing guard at the cavern's entrance. He absently checked to make sure the chamber on the gun of his blade was full, then cocked the hammer and re-strapped it to his belt.

Out of habit and the knowledge that had been drilled into him from the time he was a child, he searched inside of himself to make sure he was still properly junctioned to his Guardian Force—or GF for short. In response he felt a now familiar soothing presence wash over him, and shivered as the temperature around him seemed to drop by twenty or so degrees. His next exhalation of breath even formed a cloudy puff of steam.

Taciturn, harshly composed and coolly reserved, Shiva—the GF of Ice—suited him very well, which was probably why the stand-offish GF had chosen him as a carrier all those years ago.

GFs were spirits of magic that were almost god-like in power, yet on the other hand almost completely dependant on a human host to survive. They couldn't exist without a carrier, junctioning their life-force to a human—in essence taking over a small portion of the brain to live in until summoned. GFs and SeeDs had been working together in such a mutually beneficial relationship ever since Garden's inception. GFs gave SeeDs strength and power and the ability to wield magic—a feat otherwise reserved for sorceresses—while SeeDs provided GFs with a never-ending supply of hosts. They could also summon the spirit themselves to aide them in battle if absolutely necessary, though this could be dangerous if done too often and they were trained to never resort to summoning their GF unless it was a dire necessity. The GF and the host could communicate telepathically as well as empathically with one another at all times while junctioned, and generally—after junctioning—a GF and a SeeD would remain together for the rest of that SeeD's life. In which case the GF would then choose another host after the original's death.

Shiva had first junctioned with Squall when he was only seven years old, only two years after he'd joined Garden. In ten years Squall could count on one hand the amount of times she had communicated with him verbally. Normally she merely gave him impressions or sensations that effectively communicated her thoughts or desires. The only bad side-effect of being junctioned to Shiva was that he could never seem to get warm, always cold, which was the reason why he wore a fur-lined jacket all year round—even in Balamb's humid heat. A small price to pay, in his mind, for the benefits she gave him.

As they neared, the Garden Faculty members straightened. Much of their expressions were hidden by those strange wide yellow hats they wore, but Squall could see the stern man's mouth moving as he spoke, "Objective ; to defeat a low-level Guardian Force in battle. A SeeD member must support. Are you ready?"

Squall pulled himself into a picture perfect salute. "Ready." Next to him, Quistis did the same.

"I'm his support. Instructor number 14, Quistis Trepe." The one who had spoken first nodded in acknowledgement, then the other one stirred himself.

"Select a time limit. Choose one suited to your abilities. Challenging yet reasonable. 40 minutes, 30 minutes, 20 minutes or 10 minutes."

"Ten," Squall was quick to reply. Apparently this wasn't a new occurrence, for neither looked terribly impressed.

"Very well," the first replied. "Good luck." Then they both stepped aside and allowed he and Quistis to walk past.

As soon as they cleared the first tunnel Squall was blasted by an intense wave of heat. Rock formations jutted out every which way, and they were surrounded on all sides by flowing lava. No doubt anyone else would've been overcome and extremely uncomfortable, though Shiva's presence kept him from being too overwhelmed. For once he was glad for her dropping the temperature.

"My job is to support you in battle," Quistis announced as they began walking along the path, a step behind him, allowing Squall to lead. "Everything else is up to you."

Squall loosened the catch over the handle of his gunblade, keeping an eye out for monsters. "Fine," was his monotone reply.

They made their way through the cave, lava and fire pits maintaining a steady, dull roar in the background. After a few minutes Quistis suddenly chuckled. "You know, the boys often choke on this test when I come with them." Squall rolled his eyes, inwardly groaning. "I guess my charm makes them nervous."

_Whatever, _he intoned silently, sliding her a venomous glare. She laughed harder.

"I'm just kidding! Just trying to keep you relaxed, that's all."

Squall led the way confidently through the Fire Cavern. What few Bombs, Buels or Red Bats dared to impede his way were quickly and efficiently dealt with. Quistis rarely had to touch the whip on her side, merely standing back, arms crossed, and admiring his skill. Until, at last, Squall entered what seemed to be the very back of the cavern with no more then two minutes left on the clock. A huge well-spring of lava sat before him, giving off an incredible amount of heat. Quistis shook her head as they approached.

"I guess I was right. You and Seifer are in a league all your own." Squall didn't say or do anything other than approach ever closer. "Ok, this is it," she announced, grabbing the handle of her whip and sliding into a fighting stance. "Are you ready?" Squall pulled his gunblade and gave it a whirl. She snorted. "You seem confident enough."

As if that was some kind of signal, not a moment later there was a huge roar that shook the very walls of the cavern. Bits of lava and magma spewed up out of the well-spring, and then an enormous brown-skinned creature leapt forth. The bestial creature landed with a loud thud in front of them, rippling with muscle and fire-red and orange fur. Two huge black horns sprouted back off it's head, and two yellow-gold eyes narrowed on him. The creature—the legendary GF Ifrit—spread it's arms and threw it's lion-like head back for another ear-splitting roar, then suddenly leapt up into the air. Squall had about a half a second to pounce out of the way before Ifrit's enormous clawed fist—of which was bigger than Squall's entire head—slammed into the earth where he had been and cratered it. Lava pooled in to fill the gap immediately afterward.

Had he been under that blow when it hit, he'd probably be dead.

Squall quickly rolled to his feet, and Ifrit straightened. His snout pulled back into a semblance of a smile, a row of razor-sharp fangs showing.

"Hm," he rumbled suddenly, his voice deep and powerful. "Not bad for a human."

Squall scowled, fighting to recover from being so thrown off his balance. He shifted his stance, then suddenly went on the offensive. He ducked in through Ifrit's guard, his gunblade slashing out and catching the enormous GF in the mid-section. Right at the last moment he pulled the trigger, pumping a round into him as well. Ifrit stumbled back with another roar, this one enraged and in pain.

"Impudent human!" The GF motioned with it's paw, and Squall fell back—stunned—when he was suddenly engulfed in flames. Only his quick reaction time and a timely intervention from Shiva kept him from catching on fire. Unfortunately this was just enough of a distraction for Ifrit to pounce forward again and then catch him in the chest with a powerful blow. Squall fell back on his back with a slight cry, then jerked his head up, eyes wide, just in time to see Ifrit closing the distance fast.

Before he could get to him however, the ground around them suddenly froze over, waves of ice forming on the stone all around them. An enormous spike of it suddenly shot up, and encased within was the blue-skinned Ice Goddess herself, arms folded over her chest as if in repose. Ifrit stumbled back a few steps, his bestial eyes widening. Shiva lifted her head, eyes opening, and with a slight toss of her head the ice encasing her shattered. She immediately put her arms in front of her, floating above the ground, and her Diamond Dust attack peppered Ifrit with shards of freezing ice and wind before she disappeared as quickly as she had appeared.

The elemental of fire was forced to his knees.

"They have Shiva?!" Ifrit snarled furiously, then forced himself back to his feet. The GF was wounded however, slower, and Squall took the opening given. Three more slashes had the powerful creature back on it's knees. His head bowed.

"For me to lose to a human . . ." He heaved a gusty sigh that blasted Squall with heat and the smell of sulfur. Ifrit raised his head. "Very well, you have proven worthy."

A moment later Ifrit had disappeared back into the pool of lava. Squall winced as he straightened, more than one place on his body aching from the exertion he'd just put on it and the blows he'd taken. Quistis checked her watch, then chuckled.

"Exactly five seconds to spare," she murmured, then shook her head and sighed before eyeing him admiringly. "Five seconds better than Seifer's time."

Outwardly Squall didn't show any reaction to her admission, though inwardly he was practically purring in pleasure. _Hah. Take that, Almasy. _

* * *

Quistis chewed on her lip as she and her student made their way back to Garden. Normally she wasn't one to mind silences. She was known to brood and mull on occasion herself. Yet for some reason she could never seem to stand uncomfortable silences with this particular teen, which unfortunately was just about the only thing he was apt to give her. Or give anyone, for that matter.

More than once Quistis had questioned her own sanity and good judgment in singling Squall out as she did. Sure, he was handsome, and smart, and a damn good fighter. Yet there were smarter, handsomer men than Squall Leonhart in the world—and plenty of them showed loads more interest in her than her taciturn student did. The fact that he was a student and she was his Instructor—not to mention a year younger than her as well—should have been plenty to completely deter her from any untoward behavior. There was just something about Squall that drew her like a moth to flame however, despite all of her good intentions otherwise. Even in the face of his absolute disinterest.

Perhaps it was the mystery of him. Always so withdrawn and cold, so . . . emotionless. He guarded himself and his feelings so closely, so completely. Quistis—a natural problem-solver—couldn't seem to leave well enough alone when it came to Squall. After months of trying, she had pretty much accepted the fact that Squall was simply not in the least bit interested in her as a woman and she'd tried her best to bury her ridiculous crush or else end up acting and looking the fool.

Some things were easier said than done, though. And, Hyne, did it hurt. Squall rejected her as easily as one might discard an old pair of shoes, not an easy thing for any woman to experience. Her rigid control and SeeD training were probably the only things keeping her from dissolving into a shrieking harpy every time he gave her one of those impatient glares or annoyed rolls of his steely blue eyes when she had the audacity to try and lure him into perfectly innocent, friendly conversation.

As they approached the front gate, Squall turned to her and stood at attention, but for all his blank expressions she had grown to know him well this past year. He was dying to get the hell out of there and away from her. She swallowed the lump in her throat, but pulled her professional face forward and straightened as well.

Two could play this game.

"Well done. All your requirements are now filled, so you're free to participate in the exam." She glanced at her watch. "It's almost time. Now change into your student uniform and assemble at the first floor lobby."

Squall turned on his heel and walked away without another word or twitch of an eyebrow. Quistis hesitated a moment before following after. She made for the directory in the lobby. A few students had already assembled as well as the four other SeeD instructors who would be accompanying the candidates on this mission. They called greeting to her when she approached. For appearances' sake she put on a breezy smile and nodded in return, accepting the file that a Garden Faculty member handed her before he turned around and left as well. Quistis ignored the impulse to open the folder and take a peek in order to see who Squall had paired with if for no other reason than the only student she was interested in looking at was him.

Hyne, it was getting to be like some sort of sick obsession. Not to mention pathetic. A few more students began trickling up as the minutes ticked by. The instructors began announcing squad assignments and the students began pairing off. Shortly before 1600, Squall himself appeared. Quistis did her best to squelch the flare of excitement that pooled in her belly at the sight of him in his dark blue uniform—of which looked very good on him. Not one to conform completely however, he'd left his jacket unzipped, revealing his Griever pendant that he still wore and the tight white undershirt on beneath it—which molded far too well to the toned muscle of his chest for her or any other girl's peace of mind.

Really, how was a girl supposed to keep her head with that kind of display? She cleared her throat and adjusted her glasses.

"Squall!" she called out, ignoring the others who turned to her at the sound of her voice. "Over here!" His face was as bland as ever as he approached her. "I'll be announcing the squad assignments for the exam now." She finally opened the folder and glanced down the sheet inside. "Let's see . . . you'll be with . . ." her eyebrow rose. "Zell Dincht," she announced, slightly stunned. Then she felt her mouth quirk into a smile of amusement, something Squall apparently did not share in the slightest if his suddenly irritated expression was any indication. _This oughtta be good, _she thought to herself, then announced diplomatically, "quite a lively fellow."

Squall's glare was venomous. "Lively? He's just loud. Can't I switch members?" Quistis shook her head.

"I'm afraid that's not possible," she returned coolly, then turned to where she saw Zell shadow-boxing near the back of the group. That kid never stood still. He was constantly moving. She'd seen hyper before, but Zell easily took the cake. "Over here, Zell!" she yelled, causing him to pause in his mock-fighting and turn. He grinned and then—instead of walking over like any other normal human being—he suddenly ran into a cartwheel and then back-flipped the entire way over. At the last second he pulled up and then gave them a thumbs up and a wide toothy grin. Squall put his face in one hand and groaned while Quistis just chuckled, feeling just a twinge of vindictive humor.

_Oh this is going to be so much fun. Just wait until he finds out who his squad leader is._

"Whoa!" Zell exclaimed after a half a second. "I'm with you?" He quickly rubbed his fist on the leg of his pants, then held it out for a friendly handshake. Not surprisingly Squall completely ignored it and turned back to Quistis, expression tight with disapproval. After another moment Zell realized he wasn't going to get to shake hands and slumped slightly. He recovered quickly however and suddenly questioned, "You don't get along with Seifer, do you?" Quistis saw Squall tense, but he didn't answer. Zell continued dauntlessly. "Heard he whooped you pretty bad this morning."

_Now _that _will definitely get a reaction,_ Quistis mused, and smirked when her prediction proved correct. Squall pivoted slightly to pin Zell with a cold stare.

"We weren't fighting," he announced blandly. "We were training." Zell snorted, mimicking Quistis' own reaction to such BS.

"I bet you he doesn't think so." Then Zell sighed. "Look, Seifer's just being a pain in the ass. All you have to do is ignore him." Quistis snorted again. This coming from the kid who was constantly getting reprimanded for throwing fits after Seifer even so much as breathed a word in his direction.

She saw her chance however, and just as Squall opened his mouth she spoke with him. "That's none of your business."

Both Zell and Squall turned to her afterward. Zell looked stunned and confused, Squall looked . . . blandly irritated as usual. Quistis cleared her throat.

"Ahem . . . Excuse me, but . . . That Seifer you're talking about . . . He's your squad leader."

Zell gaped, taking a step back with his astonishment. "_Say what?!"_ he yelled, and Quistis winced at the sheer volume. This kid _really _needed to get a handle on his temper. Squall looked no more pleased, but kept his anger and disapproval in firm check. His face was as blank as always, only the fire spitting from his steel blue eyes gave him away. Quistis shrugged helplessly.

"It can't be changed." She turned to scan the crowd. "Seifer! Are you here?"

A moment later his tall form swaggered out of the throng, that egotistical smirk ever present on his tanned face. Of course he hadn't bothered to follow a simple rule like wearing his Garden student uniform for the exam. Instead he was dressed in the clothes she'd seen him wearing earlier in class, the black slacks and white-trimmed blue vest, his worn gray coat on over it. His little posse—Raijin and Fujin—weren't far behind him.

Quistis felt her whole body tighten in response to his arrogant expression. Like Squall, Almasy never failed to get a reaction out of her, and also much like Squall it was completely involuntary on her part too. For any other situation Quistis was well-known for being able to keep her cool, to never let her anger or her temper effect her work. Seifer had only to give her a certain look or turn a certain phrase and she felt her temperature start to boil. Seifer went out of his way to undermine her authority and disrupt her classes at every given opportunity. There were times these past two years when she thought she might have happily wrapped her Chain Whip around his neck and strangled the life from him.

Quistis gave his smirk a stern look, fighting to keep her cool. "You're the squad leader," she announced, tone frosty. It was either that or start screaming and clawing that damned look off his face with her bare hands. "Good luck to you," she added as an after-thought. When his expression darkened she tensed. Apparently she'd managed to upset him without even trying.

"Instructor," he purred in that baritone sneer that never failed to push all her buttons. "I hate it when people wish me luck," he continued snottily. "Save those words for a bad student who needs them, eh?"

Quistis folded her hands behind her back. "Very well." And some sort of perverseness had her leaning forward and adding, "good luck, Seifer."

His smirk fell into a strangely heated look a moment before he motioned with one arm. "Add Instructor Trepe to the list."

Trepe felt her eyebrow twitch. _List? What list? _Fujin merely nodded to Seifer's instruction. Quistis rolled her eyes. _Boys will be boys._

"Well then, you're all assigned to Squad B," she announced primly. "I'll be the instructor in charge. Team work is of the utmost importance." She gave the three of them a serene smile. "Let's get through this exam, everyone." Seifer snorted, then turned to glare at his two teammates.

"Listen up! Teamwork means staying out of my way. It's a Squad B rule. Don't you forget it!"

Quistis groaned under her breath as Zell took a fighting stance and looked on the verge of throwing down. Fortunately Headmaster Cid chose that moment to walk up. All of the students—except Seifer—snapped to attention. Seifer merely lowered himself to turning forward, crossing his arms boredly. If Cid noticed, he didn't say anything. The portly middle-aged man came to stand in front of the congregation near the directory, his hands folded behind his back.

"Everyone here?" No one responded, but Cid nodded anyhow. "It's been a while, everyone. How's everyone doing?" Nothing verbal passed the students lips—they were too well trained for that—but the bright-eyed and expectant expressions on their faces told Cid well enough and he grinned. "This exam will involve twelve members from squads A through D. You will be proceeding to a real battlefield. Obviously the battles are for real." He motioned grandly with his arms. "Life and death, victory and defeat, honor and disgrace. Each of these go hand in hand. There's only one way or the other." He put his arms back behind his back and chuckled. "How 'bout it? Are you still up for it?"

The twelve students in front of him didn't even so much as squirm, but the energy in the room was almost palpable. Quistis almost cracked a grin herself. She remembered well what it was like to be on the other side of the line. Fresh out of the classroom, your head filled with images of glory and heroism. Unfortunately real battle wasn't nearly so glamorous, which was an unfortunate fact they were all about to discover. Still, it was what they had been training for almost all their lives. Today they would discover if they really had what it took to become a SeeD. Headmaster Cid straightened after a moment and continued.

"You will be accompanied by 9 SeeD members. Should you fail, these members shall get the job done." He smiled. "They always do. Well that's one less worry off your mind," he added with a chuckle, then motioned again. "The pride of Balamb Garden! The elite mercenary force, SeeD! Learn from them, obey their commands and complete the mission. Prove yourself worthy of becoming a member of SeeD." He nodded. "Best of luck."

At that dismissal everyone turned and began heading for the parking lot in the orderly fashion they were trained. On the way she heard Seifer heave a disgusted sigh and begin complaining to Raijin and Fujin—who were accompanying him to the car apparently like some sort of escort.

"I've had to listen to that same old dumb-ass speech three times now," he grumbled. "It never changes. You think he'd learn some new lines."

"And _you'd_ think you'd finally manage to pass this exam," she shot back icily, causing Seifer to scowl in her direction. She met him glare for glare. "Get in the vehicle, Almasy," she snapped. "Raijin, Fujin, you're not among the 9 SeeDs assigned to this mission. Carry on with your business."

Quistis effectively ignored any venomous glares that came her way and maintained her cool stare until Fujin and Raijin eventually wandered off and Seifer stalked through the yellow hall leading to the parking lot. He entered the large six-seater first, followed by Squall and Zell, Quistis getting in last. The back had three seats on each side, purple upholstery with the words BALAMB GARDEN written in white across the head-rests. Seifer sat on the end of one row, Quistis on the other end with a seat between them. Zell sat across from her, Squall across from Seifer. The SeeD member behind the wheel started her up and then pulled out of Garden. Quistis settled back, her legs crossed and began counting the minutes. It was a twenty minute drive from Garden to the harbor town of Balamb.

She prayed the four of them could make it that long.

A moment later Zell suddenly turned to Squall. "Yo Squall. Show me your gunblade, will ya?" Squall continued to stare down at the floor of the van between his boots, saying nothing. Zell leaned forward. "C'mon man!" he wheedled. Again, nothing. Zell put his hands—fitted into his black and steel-plated fighting gloves—together in supplication. "Just a peek!" Quistis sighed as Squall refused to even look in Zell's direction. The blonde martial artist sat back heavily as he finally accepted the fact that Squall wasn't going to give in, shooting his teammate a dirty look. "Tch. Fine. Yeah, yeah." He waited another moment, as if waiting to see if his lack of interest would get a reaction, then sighed loudly. "Why you bein' so selfish?" he then demanded. "Scrooooge."

Quistis compressed her lips into a thin line to keep from snickering. She could almost see the vein in Squall's temple begin to throb as Zell kept up, refusing to be daunted by the brunette's refusal to be drawn into conversation. You had to give him one thing, at least Dincht was persistent.

"Say somethin', will ya?!" Zell demanded at length, crossing his arms, giving Squall a belabored glare. "What's on your mind?"

Quistis couldn't help it. As she saw Squall open his mouth she called out at the same time, "nothing."

Squall gave her a glare while Zell stared on in confusion and Seifer—who had remained slumped down in his seat and silent up until now—let out a low growl under his breath. She didn't hear the words, but doubted they were complimentary and didn't bother asking him to repeat them.

After another moment Zell suddenly got to his feet in the moving van. Quistis felt her brows knit in annoyance and exasperation as the hyper-active teen actually began shadow-boxing inside the car. Restless and edgy, it was almost as if Zell couldn't stand to sit still. A part of it probably had to do with the jitters concerning his first real battle, though Quistis suspected Zell would be this energetic in any situation. She could sympathize, but the back of a van was no place to start hopping in place and throwing mock punches.

She had just opened her mouth to reprimand Zell and tell him to sit down, but someone else beat her to it.

"Stop that," Seifer suddenly growled. "It's annoying." Zell froze, and turned to glare at the taller youth. Seifer gave him a sneering smirk. "Chicken-wuss."

Zell immediately fell into a fighting crouch, his face turning red with fury. "_What did you call me?!" _

Seifer just chuckled nastily. Quistis felt very near to pulling her hair out in frustration. _Boys! _

"Knock it off," she snapped angrily, cutting off any other outbursts. Seifer continued to chuckle, but under her stern glare Zell finally backed down and then plopped back into his seat. He crossed his arms and glared off out of the window instead.

A few more minutes of blissful silence ensued, until the most unlikely source finally broke it again.

"Instructor . . ," Quistis jerked and then turned her eyes to Squall, who had turned his head from where he still sat forward. He met her stare steadily. "Who was that girl in the infirmary this morning?"

Quistis frowned in confusion. _Where in the world had _that _come from? _"Was someone there?" she asked, striving to maintain a neutral tone. "I didn't notice anybody." A flicker of something passed his eyes, but as soon as it appeared it was gone again. Instead he turned back to staring at the floor. Quistis bit at the corner of her lip. "Is there a problem?"

He sighed, then shook his head. "No . . . not really."

Any other conversation was interrupted by Seifer's loud and obnoxious sigh. "This is great. I have Chicken-wuss and a guy who just reached puberty in my squad."


	4. Chapter 3 : Chasing Glory

**Chapter Three**

_Chasing Glory_

The Garden vehicle pulled to a stop in front of the docks of Balamb. Trepe jumped out of the van first—looking the closest to frazzled as Seifer had ever seen her—followed by himself and then Squall—or Puberty Boy as he was now going to think of him. Had a good ring to it, much like Chicken-wuss. The two of them turned to stare at the sleek blue assault boats docked near-by while Wuss struggled to undo the seat-belt he'd put on five minutes ago. There were seven of them, six-man vessels that were deadly quick with enormous gun turrets on the prow. Trepe began moving off toward the docks, while he and Leonhart stood there for a moment, taking it in.

"So that's the vessel?" Squall questioned. Seifer grinned.

"Ain't no turning back now." He noticed Leonhart fiddling with the hem of his jacket and his eyebrow quirked. "Huh? You scared, too?"

Another instructor suddenly yelled out, "Hey! You guys are the last! Hurry up and get in!"

Ignoring him, Squall turned to give Seifer one of his blank stares—his hand dropping from his jacket—and Seifer gave him a grin.

"Don't disappoint me now."

"Come on," Trepe suddenly yelled back at them, tone impatient, "move it!" Zell finally emerged out of the vehicle and all three of them headed for the boat. Leonhart was pulling up the rear, as usual, prompting Trepe to add, "Hurry, Squall!" before all four of them boarded.

They all moved below deck, to the briefing room. It was a medium-sized rectangular shaped space with six seats—three on each side—a long table stretching out between the two rows and a large vid-screen on the back wall, which showed a common Balamb Garden screen saver at the moment. Seifer entered first and quickly sat down toward the end of the right row, propping his feet up onto the table and draping his arm across the head-rest to his left with a sigh. Leonhart sat down on the last seat of his row, Chicken-wuss coming to sit across from him and apparently doing his very best to try and pretend that he wasn't here. Seifer smirked at the thought.

Quistis entered next and came to stand across from Squall, but before she had a chance to sit down, another woman suddenly came down the stairs behind her. Seifer tensed slightly at the sight of her, and then his foot began twitching restlessly.

The woman was dressed smartly in her SeeD uniform, two wicked-looking guns holstered in the small of her back beneath her coat. Her medium-brown hair was cut in a severe bob style and her dark eyes were steely with experience. In her mid twenties, Xu Allayne was the highest ranking SeeD in Balamb Garden at the moment, just under Headmaster Cid in command. Hard-assed and no-nonsense—and a damn good strategist and warrior even though it caused Seifer physical pain to have to admit it, even to himself—it was no real surprise that Xu was here. If and when Garden ever accepted large scale jobs such as this, Xu could commonly be found directing the action on the front lines.

She came forward and Zell immediately got to his feet respectfully. Seifer and Squall stayed in their seats. Xu ignored them and focused her attention on the Instructor, giving her a tight smile and a nod—rather friendly for her standards. "Hi, Quistis." Trepe smiled and nodded in return.

"Well, these are the members of Squad B. Guys, this is SeeD member Xu Allayne, Rank 30. She'll be leading the mission." Squall stood at that and turned. Seifer remained insolently in his seat, fixing his gaze in front of him.

Zell saluted her like the little kiss-ass that he was. "Nice to meet ya."

Not to be outdone, Pube Boy saluted as well. "Pleased to meet you." Xu nodded to their greetings, then her eyebrow rose to haughty levels and she tilted her head to the side to see around Squall and pin him with a snide look.

"Seifer, how many times has it been now?" Seifer turned his head and gave her a sneering grin.

"Oh I just love these exams," he greased, causing her to scowl for a moment, then she turned away from him and preceded to ignore his presence.

"I'll explain the current situation and the mission." Xu walked past them to the back of the room and to the vid-screen, picking up the remote. She turned back and fixed them all with a stern look. "Be seated!" The others quickly did so. "Our client for this mission is the Dollet Dukedom Parliament. A request for SeeD was made 18 hours ago." The screen behind her shifted to show a map of Dollet in green. As she continued, a line of red dots began invading the map. "Dollet has been under attack by the G-Army since about 72 hours ago. 49 hours into the battle, Dollet abandoned their position in the inner city. Currently they have retreated into the near-by mountains and are reorganizing their troops." The map zoomed in and several red triangles appeared and blinked at them, indicating the Dollet army's positions. "According to our reports, the G-Army is mopping up the Dollet troops in the mountains." The map zoomed back out again, then red dots began moving through the water toward land, indicating their course. "We're to make a landing at Lapin Beach. We're to eliminate the remaining G-Army within the city and liberate it A.S.A.P." Now three lines appeared on the map, indicating a three-pronged attack. "Afterwards SeeD members will intercept any G-Army forces trying to make their way into the city from the mountain region."

The screen shifted again to once more show the Balamb Garden emblem, and Xu replaced the control on the table. Seifer sighed.

"So what are _we _supposed to do?" Xu fixed him with a bland stare.

"SeeD candidates are to eliminate the G-Army inside the city." Zell brightened.

"Sound's important!" Seifer scoffed.

"Sounds boring." He glared at Xu. "So what you're saying is, we do all the little dirty work." Xu's smile was equally as sneering as his had been a moment before.

"Oh, it hardly needs to be said, but . . ." Seifer sighed loudly, then turned away again and glared off into space. _Hyne-damned uppity bitch._ Xu continued dauntlessly. "The order to withdraw takes priority. Do not forget. We're almost there. We anticipate a battle as soon as we disembark. Just be prepared. That is all. Any questions, talk to Quistis."

Seifer rolled his eyes as she marched back out of the room. Zell looked as if he might ask a question, then glanced at him and apparently thought better of it. Seifer chuckled under his breath. _Must've been a stupid one. _

Several minutes of silence passed before Quistis sighed, glanced at her watch and then checked the clasp holding her coiled whip to her hip. "We'll be landing pretty soon. Get ready."

"Alright," Squall murmured, while he double-checked the rounds in his gunblade.

"Roger!" was Chicken-wuss' far too energetic response as he absently tightened the gloves on his hands. Seifer—who knew damn well Hyperion was loaded and ready to rumble—didn't bother.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. Quistis shot him a dirty look, then turned back forward and settled her eyes on Pubes. His eyes narrowed as she continued to stare, her alabaster face getting that softer look that she only got when she looked at _him. _That same pinch of anger that always assaulted him in such times reared it's head, though he refused to analyze too closely why it did. Seifer turned to Squall with a jerk. "Well then, Squall," he called. "Go see what's going on outside."

Pube Boy slowly turned his head to fix him with a cold glare, one that Seifer was in no way intimidated by. He just grinned. _Let him try and tell me no, _he thought gleefully, _and watch the points on his exam drop faster than a Cadet's skirt on Inauguration Night._ Squall must've come to this same realization as well, for after another moment he sighed heavily.

" . . . Ok," he finally murmured, tone grudging. Seifer just grinned.

"Good," he reiterated, inordinately pleased with himself as Squall got to his feet, "because it's _my _order."

Trepe waited until after Squall had left before she narrowed her frosty blue eyes on him with her usual disapproving stare.

"Way to abuse your position, Almasy. Really mature." She shot to her feet, pulling her SeeD jacket back straight with an angry jerk. "Do you have _any_ intentions of ever passing this field exam," she continued snottily, "or do you _like _the idea of being a thirty-year-old cadet?"

She stalked out after her precious Squall and Seifer just glared. "Bitch, bitch, bitch," he snarled half-under his breath. "All that woman ever does is fucking _bitch."_

Zell stood. "She has a point though, Almas—,"

"Shut the fuck up, Chicken-wuss," he snapped, interrupting the martial-artist's misplaced intentions. Zell—face turning nearly purple—started to open his mouth to reply and Seifer stood himself. At 6'2", he towered over Dincht's diminutive 5'5". "And before you go and say something else equally retarded," he growled, "let me remind you that I am your squad leader for this mission and I am _ordering _you to keep your fucking mouth shut until we hit the beach."

With that Seifer turned on his heel and headed for the back hatchway. He was in the hall when he felt the boat suddenly accelerate, and quickly reached up to grab something just in time as they went air-borne for a few minutes before crashing back down with a thud. He and Zell hurried forward just as the boat made landfall and the hatchway opened to the sound of gunfire and yelling. Squall appeared and all three of them ran out. Quistis stopped at the threshold.

"Ok, you are to secure the Central Square! Be sure to equip your GF before you head into battle!"

Out of habit, at her words Seifer did a mental check.

_Still here, hatchling, _Tiamat's powerful booming rumble sounded out in his mind, and Seifer grinned—infused as he always was with just a bit more confidence and strength by the Dragon Prince's presence. He unbuckled Hyperion from his belt and raised it into the air.

"Let's move out," he called to his two subordinates before spinning on his heel and leading the way up the beach.

What few enemies there were to be had in this area had already been long taken care of. Seifer moved them up a small flight of stairs, then jerked as three Galbadian soldiers—dressed in their navy blue uniforms with those stupid helmets that made them look like they had three red eyes in the center of their foreheads—appeared from around the corner.

Seifer dodged the spray of bullets that came raining from one of their guns, swinging around and catching the other in the thigh with Hyperion. He went to the ground with a yell, clutching at his now furiously bleeding appendage. Squall wasn't two steps behind him, and similarly dealt with the one that had shot at them. Amazingly Zell darted in next, and caught the last one with a stiff right, spinning the man a full rotation before he landed on the pavement with a thud and didn't stir afterward.

Another squad of cadets—Squad A—had followed them, and took up positions as Seifer, Squall and Zell continued down the street. They were harried by two more soldiers along the way, but a few more crippling wounds dealt out by him and Pubes had the Galbadians out of the picture soon enough.

"The Central Square is up ahead," he announced from where he knelt over a fallen soldier, squinting down the street. He grinned, the heated adrenaline rush of battle thrumming hard in his veins. He stood and swiped the air with Hyperion, then yelled out, "hey! All you Galbadian cowards out there! Come out'n show your faces! Don't leave me hangin' now!"

He started jogging for the Square. Behind him he thought he might've heard Chicken-wuss mutter, ". . . what an idiot," and promised himself he'd investigate such presumptions later.

All three of them rushed into the Central Square of Dollet, and almost immediately a dumb-ass soldier—probably a rookie recruit—jumped out from behind the fountain and rushed him. Seifer sneered, then ducked slightly and smashed the handle of Hyperion right in the guy's face. The soldier crumpled immediately, out cold.

The blonde straightened and immediately tensed again at movement to his left, but loosened when he realized it was just a sandy-colored, mutt of some sort. The knee-high canine scampered out from under a near-by car and ran up to them, it's tail half-tucked and it's big brown eyes filled with nervous fear. It was a stray apparenlty, fur dirt encrusted and matted with months of neglect. Seifer turned and ignored the dog for now. He scanned their surroundings, unable to shake a continued feeling of uneasiness.

"There may be more," Squall suddenly called out, echoing Seifer's own thoughts. There were several alleyways that broke away from the main square, and lots of places to hide and stage an ambush. Seifer motioned with his gunblade.

"Alright, I want you guys to scout the area for more enemies."

Seifer stood his ground while Squall and Zell nosed around. He hung back, sharp eyes darting here or there, looking for movement. He tensed when he found it. Unfortunately he didn't find it quick enough for Squall to avoid getting clipped in the arm. Zell and Squall dove in two different directions while Seifer took cover behind the fountain. His stomach bottomed out when a wild-eyed soldier suddenly emerged from behind a dumpster dragging a young girl behind him. She looked to be only ten or so years old, roughed up and probably scared out of her mind as the short-fused Galbadian put his machine gun to her temple and then commenced to using her as a human shield.

"Get back!" he screamed at them. "Get away from me or I swear to Hyne I'll blow this little bitch's brains out!" He dragged the crying girl a few more inches forward, then fixed his widened stare on Squall—who was rolling up to his knees with a pained grimace—then to Seifer—who had straightened slightly from behind his cover. "Get those gunblades where I can see them, assholes! Right now!"

"All right, all right," Seifer called out, striving to keep his voice calm and neutral and not betray the nervous fury he felt. "Just calm down there, man. Nobody needs to get hurt here, eh?"

"Yeah, tell that to Timmons," the soldier spat, jerking his head to his fallen comrade nearby. Seifer didn't reply, recognizing the note of unbalanced lunacy in this one's voice. Logic wasn't going to work with this guy, so it'd be pointless to point out the fact that "Timmons" was merely unconscious and the worst he'd sport was a broken nose and one helluva headache come morning. Apparently the heat of battle had completely broken this guy's mind, though. It would take one sick bastard to use a young girl as a shield anyway, so Seifer felt very little pity for the creep.

He slowly set Hyperion down on the edge of the fountain and then took a step away, hands raised, meanwhile wracking his brain frantically for something to do to get them out of this mess. Squall set his Revolver on the pavement afterward and then sat back away from it, clutching at his bleeding arm.

The soldier's eyes darted back and forth between them, his grip tightening spasmodically around the girl's arm, who continued to cry and cringe in his grasp. This bozo was obviously hanging on to sanity by a thin thread. Nothing was stopping him from swinging that machine gun off the girl and plugging one of them. Seifer knew he could probably get to Hyperion in time to save himself should the Galbadian go for Squall first, but wasn't as confident on his ability to do so if _he _was the unlucky one.

Seifer tensed however as he suddenly realized there was one in his squad unaccounted for. He struggled to keep his stunned disbelief off his face as he suddenly realized where Chicken-wuss had gotten off to. Apparently after he'd initially dove out of the way of the gunfire, Zell had managed to sneak his way back completely behind the solider. Very slowly the blonde melted through the shadows of the alleyway, his tanned face eerily blank, blue eyes like cold mirrors as he snuck up behind his intended victim. Part of Seifer wanted to yell at Zell and tell him to back off—knowing that if he screwed this up the girl and possibly all of them were dead meat—yet he kept his silence because if he said anything now it'd definitely be all over.

Yet the hairs on the back of Seifer's neck stood on end as the normally energetic, bouncing teen moved through the shadows with such eerie, fluid stealth. How someone normally so annoyingly restless and hyper could move so slow and furtively he'd never know. Had he not been staring, Seifer probably wouldn't have even seen Zell coming. The soldier sure didn't. And then all at once Zell went from slow and controlled, to lightening fast, moving with a surgeon's precision.

Zell grabbed the soldier's arm that held the gun and wrenched it back to an unnatural angle, and Seifer winced as he heard the bones snapping from all the way on the other side of the fountain. Before the soldier even had a chance to scream about that, Zell's opposite foot shot out and slammed down into the man's kneecap, shattering it backward. The Galbadian released the girl—who immediately stumbled away—and then fell to his knees with a loud, agonized wail. Yet that too ended abruptly as Zell—his face utterly blank and apparently deep into some kind of zone—reached out and grabbed the guy's head in both hands, then sharply twisted it with a swift, deadly efficient gesture.

Zell let go and the body fell forward and thumped lifelessly onto the pavement in front of him. Seifer could only stare, wide-eyed. Hyne-damn, he'd had no idea the Chicken-wuss had that in him. A quick glance to Squall showed him with what must be a similar look of shock and disbelief on his own face.

The nameless girl disappeared down a side street with a sob, and was quickly forgotten about.

Zell just stared down at the body at his feet for several moments, and slowly that blank stare left his face. Most of the color left his complexion, until his black tattoo stood out in garish relief against his suddenly ghost-white skin. Soon his breaths were coming in faster and faster. Seifer sighed. Dincht was just now realizing that he'd just killed somebody and apparently he wasn't taking that too well.

Sure enough he suddenly started to mumble with an edge of incoherency. "They . . . they said it was different . . . said people were different . . . different from monsters. I didn't . . . I never . . . they said it was different . . ."

Seifer knew he had to act fast. He couldn't let Zell fall to pieces on him. Selfishly, if any member of his squad started going cookoo, it'd probably reflect badly on his exam score. And in a slightly less selfish light, Zell himself would undoubtedly fail the exam with flying colors if he flipped his lid over popping his kill-count cherry.

Not that Seifer necessarily blamed him. Killing another human being was easier said than done, and the first was always the hardest to get over. One of the reasons why he himself had failed his first exam was that he'd been forced to behead a guy on his first mission. Seifer had thrown up all over the place right after, and that had been the end of that.

"Yo, Chicken-wuss!" he suddenly snarled, putting his meanest face forward. Zell's widened blue eyes snapped off of the dead guy at his feet and centered on Seifer instead. He gave a ghost of his usual blustery scowl. _That's it, wuss, _he thought to himself. _Forget about the horror and get pissed at me. Pissed I can use. _"Would you get a grip and knock that the fuck off? We still have a mission to get through, so stop pissin' your pants over there and help Puberty Boy get these bodies out of the open."

The pallor disappeared, replaced with that more familiar ruddy flush of anger. Seifer refrained from patting himself on the back, however. That'd just be too arrogant, even for him. Leonhart—after splashing a bit of Potion to his wound to stop the bleeding and then quickly chasing the rest with a grimace—re-clipped his Revolver to his belt and then obligingly grabbed the leg of the dead guy and hauled him back into the alley, secluding him in a pile of refuse. Zell did his ultimate best not to look in that direction, instead grabbing Timmons from underneath the arms and hauling him back as well. With Squall's help they dumped the live one into the dumpster and then wedged the top closed.

Meanwhile Seifer did his best to convince the dog to get away from him. It had returned after the commotion had died down, and now seemed overly fascinated with sniffing his shoe.

"I think that's all of them," Squall murmured as he and Zell came back over.

"Well then, we're on stand-by 'til the enemy comes." He sighed heavily. "Stand-by . . . how boring."

The dog at his feet inched closer and let out a low whine just before the air around them was lit up with the distant din of explosions and gunfire. All three of them turned toward the mountains.

"Sounds like it's starting," Squall announced needlessly. A rare occurrence for him, betraying his nerves. Seifer scoffed.

"Bring it on." The dog started barking then and Seifer made a mock swipe at it with his gunblade. "Get outta here! Scram!" The mutt cowered away a few steps, but didn't leave the area entirely. Instead it turned back and stared at him with a look of absolute puppy betrayal. In order to take his mind off of the annoying niggle of conscience that struck him from a stupid dog, he ran forward to the street that would lead into the mountains. "Hey!" he suddenly roared. "Galbadian soldiers! What are you waiting for?! Come show me what you got!"

The only answer he got was that stupid dog's bark.


	5. Chapter 4 : Stages Set

**Chapter Four**

_Stages Set_

Squall stood near the fountain, one hand on his hip, staring off into space and doing his best to ignore the stinging pain in his left bicep where the bullet had grazed him earlier. Splashing a Potion on the wound had been a quick fix—cauterizing it in a sense and stopping the bleeding—but the wound had not healed completely. It still pained him, though just enough to be an annoyance, not enough to actually hinder him. Had he been doing something other than stand here he'd probably not even feel it.

Yet the three of them had been waiting around in this square for at least a half hour or more now with absolutely nothing going on—other than that dog bugging Seifer. Even that lost it's amusement after a while. At the moment the mutt was vigorously scratching at a flea that was apparently attacking his head.

The squad leader himself stood leaning up against the corner of a near-by building, Hyperion balanced on his shoulder as he glared out at the mountains in the distance. Inwardly Squall echoed his annoyance. He didn't like doing this baby-sitting job any more than Seifer did. How did being placed as far away from the real action as possible prepare him for real combat? More like they were training them to sit up, pay attention, and follow orders like good little soldiers, Squall corrected with a scowl. Like dogs on a leash.

Zell paced back and forth on the other end of the fountain, his hands stuffed into his back pockets. He hadn't looked back in the alley since they'd left it. Squall couldn't necessarily blame him for it. Zell had earned a small measure of respect for himself after his display of skill, as well as the very human reaction afterward. Squall decided that he wouldn't mind being paired up with Zell again in the future, if that's where fate led them. Apparently the rumors were true, and the blonde really did know his stuff.

All three of them tensed as a bell tower near by suddenly began tolling out the hour. Squall sighed heavily at the fifth ring. They had been here for over an hour.

"Nothing," he announced bitterly.

"Still keeping us waiting?" Seifer muttered. Then he let out a growl and sliced the air with his gunblade. "That's it! I can't take it anymore! What is this, some sort of dog training?!" he finished bitterly, echoing Squall's own thoughts of a moment ago.

All of a sudden the mutt suddenly took off around the fountain. Squall's brow furrowed as it suddenly skid to a stop in front of the side street, then tipped back and began howling. Squall was confused as to what had gotten into the otherwise mild-mannered dog, then gasped when he heard the thunder of boots on pavement. He and Zell both dived behind the fountain while Seifer merely turned and disappeared behind the corner of the building. The dog scampered back in their direction just as a whole troop of Galbadian soldiers come trotting up the street. They made silent hand gestures to one another and then turned down another side street, apparently going for stealth.

In moments the troops had passed, and Zell and Squall slowly stood again.

"It's the enemy," he murmured. Zell cocked his head to the side, expression confused.

"Where the hell they goin'?" he demanded. Squall turned back to watch Seifer slowly come from back around the building, noting that Almasy's gaze was focused on something above them. They turned back forward and then all three of them noticed a tall, lone tower rising above the rooftops off in the distance in the direction the Galbadians were heading.

"Hey, what's that up there?" Zell questioned aloud. Seifer chuckled.

"Our next destination," he answered, pointing with Hyperion. Zell turned back to him immediately, expression aghast.

"But that's against orders!" Seifer scoffed.

"Weren't you just saying how bored you were?" Zell just gaped at their leader for a moment, then turned to him for support.

"Squall!" He turned away.

"I stand by the captain's decision," he replied blandly.

Seifer turned to him, brows raising. "Captain's decision?" He approached, then Squall tensed when Almasy suddenly grabbed him by the shoulder. "You want to wreak some havoc too, don't you!" Squall threw him off, then turned and a rare smirk appeared on his face.

"It's a good opportunity to test my training. Thanks to you I feel like I can take on anyone." His smirk widened. "Even if they do fight dirty like you." Seifer grinned back, then turned away and sighed.

"You'll thank me when the time comes."

Zell turned back and forth between them, eyes wide and expression utterly confused. "What the hell . . . I thought you guys didn't get along? You're like, all buddy buddy now." Neither Seifer or he deigned to dignify that with a response, so eventually Zell moved on. He motioned angrily. "Listen. This ain't no ordinary battle. It's an exam, an important one. I'm tellin' ya, we have to stick to orders."

Seifer sneered and turned away, Hyperion back on his shoulder. "Then stay here," he snapped coldly. "I don't need any boy scouts." Squall just snorted under his breath as Zell took the bait; hook, line and sinker. He stepped back into a fighting stance, fists shaking.

"What was that?!" he snarled. Squall just rolled his eyes.

"Don't take him seriously, Zell," he snapped in a bored tone, then turned to Almasy. "Seifer, if we're gonna go, let's hurry."

Seifer turned toward the tower. "The enemy is heading for the facility," he announced. "We, Squad B, are to secure the summit. Move out!"

"Alright," Squall quickly agreed. Both turned to Zell, who sighed loudly and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Tch . . . fine."

The three of them moved out down the side-street after the Galbadian troops, leaving the sandy-colored mutt behind them—which moved no farther than the edge of the square before sitting down and whimpering.

Squall made his way across a long bridge leading away from the town and into the mountains, the street lights beginning to flicker to life as the sun began it's downward decent toward the horizon and dusk approached. They trekked their way into the mountain paths, moving cautiously. Several bodies littered the area, all of them wearing the blue and green colors of the Dollet regulars.

They started up a stone stair-way, then they tensed when something suddenly flopped from behind a rock. Squall's hand eased away from the handle of his gunblade however when he realized it was a wounded Dollet soldier. He apparently noticed their presence at about the same time, because he jerked and then inched backward.

"Aaah! W-W-Who are you?!" he cried.

"Don't worry," Squall called tonelessly. "We're SeeD candidates. We've been dispatched by Garden." The man slumped with relief. Seifer came forward and motioned toward the summit with Hyperion.

"So what's going on up there?" he demanded. The soldier leaned up against a rock and fought to catch his breath. Blood mixed with spittle on his lips. Squall quickly scanned the man for his injuries, then inwardly sighed. Several gunshots to the stomach. The man probably wouldn't be alive in another two or three minutes.

"The Galbadian soldiers have entered the Communication Tower," the man heaved after a moment, revealing what exactly they were heading toward. "On top of that . . ." the man coughed, the sound watery. Squall glanced at Seifer, who's expression didn't betray any sympathetic feelings their blonde leader might be feeling for this guy's imminent death. He remained sternly focused, green eyes intent, eager to learn what was really going on apparently. Eventually the guard continued. "That place has always been a nesting ground for monsters," he announced heavily. He lifted his head and met Squall's stare steadily. "If you guy's are goin' up, be caref—."

All of a sudden the man was grabbed by something behind the rocks and yanked away, almost in the blink of an eye. Squall jerked, stunned, and fell back a step at the man's scream of "_Help!" _Yet that was quickly cut off again by a loud crunching noise, and then a gurgle.

By now both he and Seifer had pulled their gunblades and were moderately prepared for the enormous cobra-like snake creature that suddenly slithered out from behind the rocks and shot itself at them, huge fangs bared.

Seifer swung Hyperion out and caught the beast in the face, metal clanging off the fangs and deflecting them from sinking into his shoulder. The Anacondaur reared back with an enraged hissing shriek, then shot forward again, this time at Zell. The martial-artist didn't have any weapons to keep the beast at bay, and soon found himself twisted and coiled up with the enormous snake. He kept his arms at his sides and looked to be fighting the crushing effect, though his face was quickly turning an unhealthy shade of blue. Squall attempted to jump in but only managed a glancing blow off the snake's tough hide before the tail whipped around and caught him full in the chest. He went sailing backward and ended up landing in a heap on the ground several feet away.

Squall sat up after a second of being dazed just in time to see Seifer raising his free hand and the eddies of magical power begin to swirl around him.

"No mercy . . ." he murmured, then, "Fire!" The spell shot from his fist and hit the Anacondaur full in the face. The snake reared back and dropped Zell—who fell weakly to the stone with a great gasping breath—hissing and spitting. Seifer darted in for the kill, Hyperion raised. "Cross!" Spinning around for more impact, Hyperion audibly sliced through the air and then launched the Anacoundaur's head from it's body. Both fell to the ground with a squishy thud, blood splattering the surrounding area. Seifer hit his feet again slightly beyond the corpse, then straightened, blood dripping from his blade. He absently slung it a little, removing much of the gore.

"Monsters, huh?" Squall suddenly commented dryly, getting to his feet. Zell did the same, coughing a little.

"That sucks," the blonde muttered. Seifer just grinned.

"More fun for us. Come on."

Their leader turned and took off up the steps. Zell just shook his head. "Fun?" he demanded angrily. "Pu-lease!"

Squall just smirked, shaking his head slightly, then both of them took off after Seifer. They all three moved up a cobble pathway, then arrived at a summit that looked down onto the entrance to the Communications Tower. As they arrived the heavy doors suddenly slammed open. Immediately they ducked down behind the rocks and boulders lining the path. Squall and the others watched as three Galbadians exited the tower and saluted each other.

"The generator is up and running!" one of them announced proudly. Another nodded.

"No problem with the boosters!"

". . . the hell they doing?" Seifer whispered, expression one of intense concentration and faint confusion. Squall had no answer, and they continued to watch the men below.

The third Galbadian snapped to attention. "Cable disconnection confirmed! Beginning exchange process." The soldiers turned and then ran back inside, the doors closing behind them. Squall turned to Seifer who lay in the dirt beside him, his eyebrow quirking.

"Repairs?" Seifer scoffed, then got to his feet again. Squall and Zell followed suit.

"Who cares," their leader finally announced at length. He pulled out a few rounds from the pocket of his trench coat and began reloading his gunblade. Squall followed suit, but hesitated when he noticed Seifer suddenly staring at him, a strange half-smirk on his tanned face. "This must be your first real battle," he suddenly mused. Squall shrugged. "You scared?"

Squall sighed, turning back to loading the bullets into his blade. "I don't know," he finally admitted after another moment. "I try not to think about it."

Seifer made a few experimental swipes with his blade after reloading. "I love battles," he announced after a slight pause. "I fear nothing. The way I look at it, as long as you make it out of the battle alive, you're one step closer to fulfilling your dream."

Squall turned to pin him with a disbelieving stare, stunned at the relatively fanciful drivel spouting from Almasy's mouth. "What?!" he demanded. "Your dream?" Inwardly Squall wondered at the game or angle he was playing now. It seemed Seifer was always playing one angle or another.

Seifer gave him a chuckle. "You have one too, don't you?" Refusing to be pulled into this game, Squall turned away with a snort.

"Sorry, but I'm gonna pass on that subject."

"Yo!" Zell suddenly demanded, stepping forward, expression eager. "Let me in on it too." Seifer shook his head with a sneer.

"Mind your own business."

Zell threw a few punches with a low growl, scowl black. "Frickin' hell," he snarled. Seifer just chuckled.

"What's the matter, Zell? Swatting flies?" Squall just sighed and rolled his eyes as Seifer turned and began moving farther down the path that would lead into the clearing. Zell crouched with an enraged snarl and slammed his fist down into the cobbles at his feet. Squall's eyebrow twitched when the stones cratered under the force. He _definitely _wouldn't want to be on the other end of one of Zell's punches.

"Damn you!" he growled with his futile fury. Before Squall could tell him to calm down again, another voice suddenly called out from above them.

"There you are!"

Both he and Zell whirled around and then Squall blinked in surprise as he saw the tiny girl who had run into him earlier that morning outside study hall standing on the rocks above them. She waved, then started to move down. Unfortunately her boot slipped and the female ended up tumbling ass over tea kettle all the way down the slope until she landed on her knees in front of them. She lifted up slightly with a pained grimace, then stared up at them with a grin, one hand pushing her short-cropped chestnut hair out of her face.

The bundle of energy soon recovered from her tumble and hopped up to her feet, then turned to Squall. "Are you Squad B?" At Squall's nod she continued eagerly. "I'm a messenger. Name's Selphie, from Squad A. The squad captain's Seifer, right? Where is he?"

Right at that moment Seifer suddenly ran past their position below in the clearing. Squall sighed blandly and pointed. Seifer motioned with his gunblade at them.

"One of these days," he yelled up, "I'm gonna tell ya 'bout my _romantic _dream!" And then Seifer ran into the tower by himself. Soon after they heard the faint sounds of yelling and gunfire.

Selphie slumped slightly with a heaving sigh that seemed to come from the toes of her boots. "This sure is tough," she complained. Then she turned around and _jumped _off the cliff, half-running, half-rolling down the much larger slope to the clearing below. She ran forward after recovering. "Captain!" she yelled. "Wait up!" Then all of a sudden she turned back and stared up at them. "What are you waiting for?!" she demanded, exasperated. "Come on! Come on!"

Squall and Zell exchange a look, then Zell shrugged. Squall lead the way down the pathway, circling around the cliff and then emerged out into the clearing. They found Selphie standing with her hands on her hips, boot tapping impatiently.

"What took you so long? It would've been much quicker if you'd just jumped." Zell let out an incredulous bark of laughter.

"Much quicker?" he demanded. "Pu-lease. You wouldn't normally jump off a cliff, ok?! Ain't that right, Squall?" Squall shrugged, finding this whole conversation pointless.

"Yeah, I guess so," he muttered, bored. "You wouldn't normally jump that."

Selphie put a finger to her chin, considering their words. "Hmm . . . I don't know." Then she shrugged and turned back to the tower. "Well, anyway, let's get goin."

They approached the tower, and Selphie and Zell took a moment to tip all the way back to nearly falling backward in an attempt to see the top.

"So this is the Communication Tower?" Zell murmured, awed.

"Sure is big," Selphie seconded, her tone just as breathy.

They were interrupted by especially loud screams of fear just before the doors slammed open and the three soldiers they'd seen earlier came tearing back out, being chased by Seifer.

"Cowards," he announced disgustedly, swiping Hyperion. Selphie brightened and hopped in place.

"_Hey!" _she cried. Completely ignoring her, Seifer turned on his heel and then headed back inside. She pouted. "The Captain's getting away!"

Selphie hurried after him and after exchanging another look, Zell and Squall entered as well. They did just in time to see the lift in the back of the room lowering back to the floor.

"Did he go up?" Squall questioned and Selphie nodded vigorously.

"Heeeeey!" she yelled up pointlessly, cupping her hands to her mouth and causing Squall to wince. "Squad B Captain!" Squall started to point out the uselessness of screaming at the top of her lungs, then shook his head, realizing it would do no good.

"I think we can take this lift up," was all he said.

The guys followed the chipper female as she rushed up onto the lift and then began pressing buttons.

"Wow, this lift is pretty cool!" she exclaimed as it began to rise up off the ground. Zell snickered.

"Don't get too excited or you'll fall off." Selphie whirled to stick her tongue out at him.

"Like I'm really going to!" she scoffed, offended. Zell stuck out his tongue back at her, and Squall put his face in his hand with a loud sigh, feeling as though he'd embarked on a mission with a couple of five year olds.

* * *

On the top of the tower Seifer crouched down below some rigging, watching silently as a red-suited Galbadian officer bent to an electrical box, apparently re-wiring it. A blue-suited soldier suddenly ran up and gave him a salute, one that was completely wasted on the man who still had his head stuck in the box.

"Major Biggs!" the officer barked officiously. "There has been a report of a monster-shaped shadow on top of the tower." The soldier stood at attention for a full minute, but when he didn't get a response he cleared his throat and tried again. "Major Biggs!"

"Be quiet!" Biggs snapped angrily. "This goes like this," he grumbled half-under his breath. "And . . . geez, what's with these crappy old tools?" he suddenly demanded, throwing a rusted welder from him. "And . . . and . . . why do I have to make all the repairs?! _Ahh!" _he finished in a growl of inarticulate annoyance. The soldier cleared his throat again in uncomfortable confusion, then snapped to attention again.

"Sir! I'll check around while the repairs are being done!" Then he trotted off to do so. Biggs continued to make his repairs.

"Let's see . . . Hmm . . . Put this here . . . and . . . This goes here and . . ." Seifer's gaze was taken from the Galbadian officer when the lift suddenly appeared with his two squad members and that loud-mouthed female on board. The officer was completely clueless as he reconnected another wire and then sat back with a triumphant laugh. "There! It's complete!"

Squall and the others all stared around them in confusion as the tower began to rumble to life. Lights and gizmos began blinking and whirring on. Seifer himself sat tensed, Hyperion at the ready as a thing that looked very much like a gun suddenly shot out of the top of the tower and then pointed west. Squall threw his head back and stared up as well as the thing continued to unfurl. When it shot out into a metal disc, Seifer relaxed. Sure enough, it curved upward and the enormous satellite was finally finished setting up.

Squall whirled to the officer. "What do you think you're doing?!" he demanded sternly.

Biggs jerked and whirled, a comical expression of confusion on his face. "Huhhhh?" he murmured, then scowled and got to his feet. "Likewise, _mister! _What do you think you're doing?!" It was then that the officer finally realized that there were three armed teenagers up here—as Seifer himself was still hidden. "_H-Hey! _What happened to all the soldiers down below!?" He motioned with his arm. "_Wedge! _Take care of these twerps!" When he got no response, the idiotic Major glanced around him and slowly realized that he was completely alone. "W . . . Wedge?" The man gulped, then gave a nervous chuckle. "I . . . ah . . . I seem to be done here, so I'll just be on my—,"

Seifer tensed, but too late the man reached behind him and then pulled out a pistol. Almasy muttered a curse under his breath, then got to his feet and slowly made his way around the others, blocking what would no doubt be the Galbadian's planned path of escape.

"I-I'm leaving!" he announced, motioning with his pistol, to which Squall and the others grimly raised their arms. "Move it!" he snapped, beginning to side-step his way toward the lift. "Move!"

Seifer chose that moment to leap out of hiding and with one quick swipe of Hyperion he launched the gun out of the Major's hand and sent it skittering over the side of the platform, to crash to the rocks far below them.

"Sorry to crash the party!" he quipped, amused as the Major fell back, clutching his hand.

"Ah, _Ahhhh . . . AHHH! _Are you _crazy?!" _Biggs demanded in a loud whine. Seifer scowled.

"Just shut up!" he snapped, annoyed beyond endurance by this guy's incompetence.

Seifer moved in to immobilize him, but was stunned and forced to duck when the guy abruptly pulled out another gun and nearly shot him in the chest.

"Prepare for the worst you brats!" The others were forced to take cover as well, and Biggs backed up a couple of steps to take some cover himself as Seifer sat up a little and fired a few shots from Hyperion. The other soldier, Wedge apparently, chose that moment to run back up.

"Major Biggs!" he called as he neared. "Have you finished with the repairs?" Everyone paused in disbelief while the guy's head moved back and forth like a dog watching a tennis ball match before he suddenly pulled his sword. "What is the enemy doing here?!"

Biggs let out another inarticulate snarl. "Wedge! Where were you?! No pay for you this month!"

Wedge groaned, then moved forward to cross swords with Squall. "I should've just stayed home."

The SeeD candidates traded a few blows back and forth until, finally, they backed both of the Galbadians to the edge of the tower. Wedge had been divested of his sword by Squall, and Biggs had wasted all of his rounds trying to shoot Zell and Selphie—who couldn't sit still on a regular basis, never mind when they were actually trying to avoid someone. A quick lash out by her enormous red Flail nunchaku had the officer's second gun launching out of his hand.

They both backed up another step, looking nervous. And then, out of nowhere, a massive tornado spell suddenly launched them both in different directions. Seifer and the others took cover as an inhuman roar rumbled the ground around them.

Apparently the owner of that "monster-shaped shadow" had arrived to get in on the action.

Seifer blinked, stunned, as a huge purple-skinned demon-looking thing suddenly winged down to their level. It had a huge orange chin, matching horns, enormous red paws, bat-like wings and then the lower half of it's body looked like a jagged chunk of earth.

"What the hell is it?!" Zell demanded. Before anyone could answer him the beast reared back and roared again before launching itself at Selphie first.

She nimbly dive-rolled out of the way to avoid those massive claws. Zell pounced in and delivered two stiff punches to the monster's midsection, allowing her time to roll back to her feet and recover her weapons. Then she motioned with them and pulled the chain taut.

"_Thunder!" _

A thin stream of lightening shot down out of the sky and struck the monster for a direct hit. Yet the creature barely batted an eyelash, instead shoving Zell aside like one might swat aside a bug. It then summoned a mini-tornado spell that had Selphie lifting up off the ground with a startled shriek and then slamming back down into the metal grating with a bone-jarring thud. She didn't get back up right away this time.

"It's got high defenses against magic!" Seifer called out as he leapt forward. "Don't bother casting, concentrate on using physical attacks!"

Squall leapt at the same time, so that they managed a sort of scissor attack from two different angles—Squall catching the flying demon thing in the chest and Seifer catching it in the back. They both pulled their triggers at the last minute and the air was split with the roar of their combined gunfire.

The beast roared again—this time in pain. Before it could recover Selphie had gotten back to her feet and with a fierce snarl she let loose with her Flail in a combo that had the thing falling to the metal grating, dazed. Squall took advantage, stepping forward and taking aim with his Revolver. Both he and Seifer then emptied their entire clips into the thing's face. It twitched with each blast, then went completely still.

All four of them stood there for a moment, heaving for breath, attempting to recover from the sudden, unexpected battle. Selphie recovered first and hopped over to place herself in front of Seifer, who immediately scowled.

"Squad B Captain? S'cuse me! I have new orders!" He sighed and motioned for her to get on with it. She drew in a deep breath, and then, "All SeeD members and SeeD candidates are to withdraw at 1900 hours. Assemble at the shore!"

Seifer scowled down at her, furious. "Withdraw?! There are still enemies around!" She shrugged, unperturbed under his wrath.

"I know, but I'm just a messenger." Seifer let out a low growl. Squall stepped forward, expression stern.

"An order to withdraw takes priority," he reminded him needlessly. "I don't want to miss the vessel."

Seifer waved him down with a roll of his eyes, then hesitated and turned back to Messenger Girl. He scowled.

"What time d'you say?" She sighed heavily and made a frustrated motion with her arms.

"Like I said! All SeeD members and SeeD candidates are to withdraw at 1900 hours. Assemble at the shore!"

Seifer's frown deepened, reaching to pull up his coat arm so that he could see his watch. "1900 hours . . ." His eyes widened. "We only have 30 minutes!" He met the others' stunned looks with a glare. "You got 30 minutes to get down to the shore! Better run!" Then he turned and began doing just that.

Behind him he heard the Messenger Girl let out a wail. "Heeey! Wait for us!"

Zell growled, "Who the hell does he think he is?!" Trust Squall to give the toneless, smart-assed answer.

"Why don't you ask him? Let's go."

All four of them piled onto the elevator and then took it down.

Above them Biggs slowly dragged himself over to the controls that had dropped to the ground during all the commotion. He lifted himself up, then punched in the security code. "Those little twerps are the targets," he wheezed. "Now _go! _Go and destroy them!"


	6. Chapter 5 : Making the Grade

**Chapter Five**

_Making the Grade_

Squall and the others raced out of the Communications Tower and began through the clearing when the sound of metal clanking above them caused them all to turn, and then look up.

"Holy Hyne . . . what in the _hell . . ."_ Seifer breathed beside him. Squall couldn't even find enough words to manage that much.

Hanging from the bottom of the top grate was an enormous bus-sized spider-shaped robot of some sort. As they watched it suddenly let go, twisted mid-air, then landed with a ground-thundering thud in front of them. Immediately it pounced forward to attack.

The latest and greatest in Galbadian military technology, the X-ATMO92—aka the Black Widow—was a massive and extremely deadly robotic mobile attack weapon, designed to take out other MAVs and entire battalions of troops. And for some strange reason it seemed to have been set loose on 4 rookie SeeD candidates.

Talk about overkill.

The four of them immediately scattered in an attempt to keep the kill radius wide. After moments it became apparent that regular weapons were damn-near useless against this heavily armored abomination. It would take forever to beat this thing the old fashioned way, and time was something they just didn't have at the moment.

Seifer apparently came to the same conclusion. He re-clipped Hyperion to his belt, then fell back a step. "On my mark, hit this bitch with all the thunder magic you've got!" he yelled out. "Try to stun it, and then we run like hell for the beach! On three!" He raised his fist. "One!"

Squall re-clipped his gunblade then put his hand to his forehead, calling up the spell.

"Two!"

Selphie brought her nunchaku forward and pulled the chain taut.

"Three!"

Zell grabbed the wrist of one hand and thrust it forward. And then at once all four of them yelled

"_Thunder!"_

Four massive bolts of electricity shot from the heavens and blasted the Black Widow, full on. It stumbled slightly, but didn't go down completely. Zell quickly dodged one of the arms that tried to stab him in the chest, and Seifer dove out of the way to avoid it's laser guns.

"Again!" he roared. All four of them positioned themselves. "One, two, three!"

Again, lightning streaked from the sky. This time the Widow collapsed, powering down.

"Alright, let's move it!" Seifer called.

Selphie stumbled slightly, suddenly looking very tired and worn out. She must've already cast some spells today, and was reaching her limit. The normal human body wasn't meant to use spells or receive them on a continuous basis. Too much and the body would quickly tire, and continued overuse could eventually burst the capillaries in your head and fry the nodes in your brain. It was called Magic Poisoning, or Mag-Poisoning for short. As SeeDs they had been taught exhaustedly the dangers of Mag-Poisoning and how to avoid it or treat it. Selphie didn't look too bad however, just a little fatigued. One didn't have to start worrying until the whites of your eyes turned bloody and the little blue veins at your temples became visible.

Seifer led the way out of the clearing, Selphie stumbling along between Zell—who followed directly behind Seifer—and Squall—who pulled up the rear. The reached the ledge above when the sounds of the Black Widow stirring to life suddenly rung out. Seifer amped up the speed.

"Move it, people!" he snarled back over his shoulder. "If that damn thing catches us again we're toast!"

Heart in his throat, Squall followed along after everyone else as they carefully maneuvered the steps and then the stone pathway below, the Widow right on his ass. As they began across the long bridge, the damn thing suddenly leapt over them. Seifer pushed everyone back a couple of steps—for a moment unsure of what to do—but then it leapt back to cut them off again and they put on the speed once more.

They tore through the Central Square. As they did, Squall spotted the sandy-colored dog whimpering loudly—apparently having gotten it's foot stuck somehow. Seifer didn't miss a beat. He ran right over the top of the dog, bending down and scooping it up into his arms. Only a loud, startled yelp issued from the mutt and then Seifer darted down the street they had come up originally.

Behind them the Widow was crashing through buildings as it pursued them, crushing cars and everything else that got in it's path. They reached the beach and Squall gasped as he saw the boats pulling away from shore. He put on a last burst of speed, dive-rolling off the stairs and into the sand below, rolling back up to his feet. The Black Widow slammed down into the sand as well. Up ahead Seifer boarded the boat, then Zell. Selphie stopped a few feet away and both of them turned around to see Squall tearing hell for leather in their direction, the Widow right behind him. They were screaming and yelling at him to hurry, as if he wasn't already doing his damndest in that regard.

And then all of a sudden gunfire began roaring out. Apparently Quistis had gotten behind the massive gun turret on the prow and began blasting the crap out of the Widow. Squall leapt from the shore and barely got his front half into the boarding bay. The Widow nearly came up behind him, but Quistis kept firing and eventually it fell backward into the water.

Zell hauled him up the rest of the way, the doors shut behind them, and then the assault boat shot off back for home. Squall just lay there for a moment, fighting to catch his breath. Zell sat on his butt nearby, doing the same, and Selphie was crouched on her knees chuckling in between gasps for air. When Squall had enough energy, he raised his head and gave her a glare.

"What's so funny?" She giggled some more, then pointed. Squall turned and then blinked before smirking himself.

Seifer stood near the back holding the stray mutt in his arms, who was now wagging it's tail a hundred miles an hour and licking the crap out of his face.

"Looks like the Captain's got a new friend," she snickered gleefully. Zell quickly joined in, and Seifer gave them all death glares before stalking off into other parts of the ship. Dog still in tow.

* * *

Seifer was the first to stalk off the boat after they'd made it back to Balamb an hour later. It was still daylight in Balamb, the sun not quite set on the tropical island. The squad leader stalked down the plank and then headed down the docks, still fighting the affection of the dog in his arms. 

Fujin and Raijin suddenly appeared. "SEIFER!" the former yelled, running forward.

"How'd it go?" Raij was quick to question afterward, both giving the dog a look but not commenting right away. Seifer sighed loudly.

"Man . . . all they did was get in my way," he complained. "Being a leader ain't easy."

"SAFE?" was Fujin's next question. Seifer gave her a grin and a chuckle, then began leading them toward the cars.

"So who's your new friend, ya know?" Raijin demanded as they did so. "S'kinda cute." Raijin attempted to pet it and the dog suddenly began growling at him, trembling and showing its fangs. Raijin quickly pulled his arm back. "Heheh, it reminds me of you, ya know! Have you named it yet?"

"No."

"Is it a boy or a girl dog?"

"I have no idea, I've been respecting it's privacy."

The fur on the dog—which looked like some kind of cross between golden retriever and a miniature collie, though the dirt and grime made it hard to tell—was long enough that it'd be impossible to tell the gender unless one really did some investigating. Something Seifer was in no mood to try and had utterly no inclination of doing.

"Well how you gonna know what to name it if you don't know if it's a boy or a girl?"

"Raijin?"

"Yeah Seif?"

"Shut up."

Back on the boat, Squall, Selphie and Zell slowly disembarked next, followed by Quistis. They lined up in front of her and she grinned.

"Good job!" She glanced around, then her grin faded into a frown. "Where's Seifer?"

Squall pointed over toward the cars. She turned to see him—flanked by Fujin and Raijin—walking toward the vehicle and shrugged with a loud sigh. "Just be back at Garden by sundown. You're free 'til then. Ok, dismissed!"

Quistis turned back to consult with some of the other Instructors, so the three of them strolled down the plank way and off the docks. Squall tensed as he heard the engine to the vehicle fire up. He didn't bother chasing after it like Zell did however when the damn thing pulled away and took off down the street.

"H-Hey! Not again, man!" Zell cried out, stopping finally and slumping. He kicked the pavement. "There goes Mr. Ego." Squall sighed.

"Might as well walk it."

The three of them strolled through the laid-back harbor town of Balamb, the peaceful sea-breeze and the lazy call of gulls above them seeming almost bizarre after the hectic battle they'd just left behind. Yet it definitely helped unwind them, so that after only moments Zell was grinning and chattering away happily about some historic information or other to Selphie, who ate it up like a cat to cream.

Zell suddenly stopped in front of a housing block. "Uh . . . hold on a sec, will ya?"

Squall blinked when the blonde opened the door and then invited himself inside. Selphie glanced at him, then followed. Squall just sighed and then did so as well. They found themselves in the kitchen area of a cozy little house decorated in flowers and doilies.

"This is my house," Zell announced then. "But don't make yourselves too comfortable!" he added quickly. "We're only stopping real quick to let my Ma know I'm ok, then we gotta get back to Garden on the double."

A husky mid-aged woman with long brown hair pulled back into a tail stood behind the stove and turned when Zell spoke. Her worn face broke into a wide grin, and she immediately came forward to engulf him in a hug.

"Zell, what a surprise!" she cried, thumping him vigorously on the back before pulling away and getting a good look at his smiling face. Then she turned and suddenly noticed Squall and Selphie. Her smile didn't dim. "Are these your friends?"

"Uh, sorta. Ma, this is Squall Leonhart, and Selphie Tilmitt. They're other SeeD candidates. We just got back from our field exam."

Expecting the woman to begin fussing about the dangers and ask if Zell was okay, Squall was instead stunned when she held him by his shoulders and pushed him back a step, her brow quirking.

"And how'd you do?" she questioned, suddenly all business in a tone that would have done any Army General proud. "Did you listen to orders like I told you? No tantrums? Defeated all your enemies?"

"Yeah, Ma," he insisted, slightly put upon and obviously uncomfortable that Squall and Selphie were witnessing this. "I won't know how well I did 'til I get back to Garden. Speaking of which, we really gotta be gettin' back. Right guys?" Zell turned to the others for support, who said nothing.

Ma Dincht ignored him too, and put one hand to the side of his face, making him turn back and look her in the eyes. She studied them for a moment, then her expression softened. Something told Squall that—somehow—the woman knew exactly what had happened to Zell on the mission, strange as it was. Her hand caressed his cheek, and Zell started softening despite himself.

"You okay, baby?" she murmured. He swallowed, then nodded a little jerkily.

"I'm gettin' there," he murmured back. Her smile was pained, but she heaved a sigh and then ruffled his spiky hair before stepping back.

"Well you better get back to Garden before you get yourselves in trouble. It was nice meeting you Squall, Selphie," she then announced, turning a kind smile in their direction. Squall nodded somewhat uncomfortably while Selphie beamed at her cheerily. "You all are welcome back any time. Be safe, dear!" she yelled out as Zell began jogging for the door. "And you had better come back with a girlfriend next time! I want some grandchildren before I die!"

Selphie laughed uproariously at Zell's suddenly crimson-colored face.

The sun was starting to get low on the horizon, so the three of them started out for Garden. They made it to the front gates just as the sun began to set fully. Zell reached up for a bone-popping stretch.

"Huuuuwahaaaaahh!" he yawned, then sighed heavily as he loosened again. "Finally made it back."

"Seriously," Selphie seconded, tugging at her knee-high black boots. Zell turned back and shrugged.

"Well, I guess we just wait around until the results." Selphie nodded. Zell gave him a smile. "'Til then. See ya Squall!"

"See ya!" Selphie seconded, then both of them took off jogging for the front door.

Squall just shook his head and followed after in a more sedate pace. Where the two of them got their energy, he'd never know. Hyne save them all if those two ever became a couple. Their unholy offspring would be the end of the world, he was sure of it.

By the time Squall entered the first floor lobby Zell and Selphie were nowhere to be seen. He did however spot Instructor Trepe and Xu standing near the directory, talking to Cid. He approached and as he did so began hearing snippets of their conversation.

"Mission complete!" Xu was announcing proudly. "I think we did a pretty good job. The candidates are back safely, right?" she questioned of Quistis, who quickly nodded. Xu sighed. "Although we didn't realize the Galbadian Army was after the abandoned communication tower." Cid nodded.

"We've just received word from the Dollet Dukedom. The Galbadian Army has agreed to withdraw as long as the communication tower is repaired and the uplink remains operational."

Xu made a face, then shrugged. "Well, in any case, Galbadia is out of there. We could've made more money if they'd stayed and made more ruckus."

Squall finally neared at this, and Xu turned to him. Her stern expression softened into a slight smile. "Hey, you did pretty well!" she complimented. Quistis grinned.

"Of course! He's my best student." When Squall merely nodded respectfully to Xu's words she sighed and added, "he's not very social though." Squall just gave her a dirty look, but turned back forward when Cid suddenly spoke.

"How did it feel to be out there on the battlefield?"

Squall hesitated before answering, wondering if this was part of his exam. If he admitted to being scared spitless at times, surely that wouldn't reflect good on him. And pretending apathy probably wouldn't go over too well either. He finally opted for the safest rout.

"To actually fight . . . it was a good feeling." Cid nodded with a smile, though something in his eyes told Squall he was perhaps a little disappointed with his answer.

"That's the spirit!" he murmured however, then sighed. "But don't let it go to your head," he admonished gently.

Squall saluted, inwardly wincing—believing he'd screwed that up royal—before he made his excuses and then headed off for the dorms. On the way he passed the library, and ran across Seifer standing there apparently waiting for him. Apparently he'd managed to divest himself of the dog, and his posse as well. The blonde sighed as Squall approached.

"D'you hear about the communication tower in Dollet?" he questioned and Squall nodded. He made a face. "We would've been heroes if it hadn't been for that withdraw order."

"You were only looking for a fight."

Both teens turned to see Quistis and Xu approaching. Quistis, the one who had spoken, gave her student a highly disapproving glare, one he returned with a sneer.

"My dear Instructor," he greased, putting a hand to his heart, "I'm hurt." Squall gave him a look, brow raised. If he didn't know any better, he'd almost swear that Seifer did this crap just to piss Trepe off. He never acted near so snotty and arrogant unless she was around. Then he sighed and did a mental shrug. What did he care? "Those are rather cruel words for an aspiring student," Seifer continued. Then his mocking expression melted into a harder, crueler stare. "A mediocre Instructor like you will never understand."

Quistis gasped, taking a step back, eyes wide as if Seifer had actually struck her. That _had _been a little on the blatantly insulting side, surprising even Squall—who had become a silent by-stander in the scene that was unfolding. Usually Seifer stuck to the more smart-assed comments. Xu stepped forward, expression thunderous.

"Seifer, don't be so stuck on yourself," she snapped. "You'll take full responsibility for leaving the designated area."

Seifer's hard look melted back into his more familiar, sneering one. "Isn't it the captain's duty to take the best possible action?" Now it was Xu's turn to let out a sneering bark of laughter.

"Seifer, you'll _never _be a SeeD," she spat hatefully. "Calling yourself a captain is a joke."

Even Squall winced at that last barb. Seifer's face turned a ruddy red before he hunched, glaring at the floor. Xu and Quistis walked away after that. Headmaster Cid came nearer and sighed. His kindly face was the epitome of disappointed as he shook his head, looking less like a frustrated headmaster taking a student to task all of a sudden and more of a father castigating an unruly son.

"Seifer," he called heavily. "You will be disciplined for your irresponsible behavior. You must follow orders exactly during combat," he continued to chastise. Seifer refused to raise his head, continuing to stare at the floor. Cid sighed again at this, his expression softening. "I'm not entirely without sympathy for you," he murmured then. "I don't want you all to become machines. I want you to be able to think and act for yourselves. I am—,"

A Garden Faculty member suddenly approached and cleared his throat, interrupting the headmaster. "Headmaster Cid, you have business in your office," the man announced officiously. Cid sighed.

"There are so many issues at hand, here," he muttered half under his breath, then turned and walked away toward the elevator. Squall stood near-by for a moment while Seifer continued to glare at his shoes, wondering if he should say something or what he would even say if he should. Luckily the PA suddenly gave it's sickeningly sweet tone, and then an unknown voice suddenly called out through the halls;

"_All students who participated in today's field exam, report to the 2nd Floor hallway. I repeat, all students who participated in today's field exam, report to the 2nd Floor hallway." _

Squall hesitated a moment longer, then sighed and turned on his heel without a word and headed for the elevator. He exited and then walked forward into the hallway, finding several students sitting or standing in the hall. Zell was one of them, pacing back and forth with his hands stuffed in his back pockets. He hesitated when he spotted Squall, and lifted his chin in acknowledgement.

"S'up," he called heavily. "Said they were gonna call out names, one at a time."

Squall nodded, then came to stand near the wall and leaned back against it while Zell continued to pace. All motion suddenly stopped however when a Faculty member with a clipboard suddenly appeared from down the elevator hallway. He came to a stop and glanced down at the board before straightening.

"Dincht," he called out. "Zell Dincht."

Zell leapt up a good three feet in the air, fists pumping toward the heavens.

"_Oh yeah!" _He landed again, then gave the others a wave. "See ya!" Then the blonde began strutting down the hallway past the Faculty member. Squall snorted under his breath, a little stunned that Dincht had managed to pass. The Faculty glanced down at the board again, then straightened.

"Leonhart, Squall, from Squad B," he called next. "Please step forward.

The breath he didn't even know he'd been holding was released in a gusty sigh, though his expression didn't change and give away his immense relief. Instead Squall merely pushed himself off the wall and then strode forward. The Faculty member nodded.

"That is all," he then announced, and the other students' faces fell. "Dismissed."

Squall headed for the elevator, inwardly sighing. Seifer had failed the field exam. Again. Somehow Squall couldn't help but feel that that was an unfair call. Sure, he had ordered them to leave the square against instructions, but he'd made a split decision on the battlefield and had been pursuing an unknown development that command hadn't known about beforehand and couldn't have possibly made provisions for. Sure, most of the reasons for doing so were from boredom, but Seifer had still proven himself to be a very capable leader—if a little on the arrogant and insulting side. Squall just gave another mental shrug as the elevator doors closed behind him.

It wasn't for him to decide. No use in thinking about it.

He and Zell were taken to the third floor—normally off limits to students—and lead to Headmaster Cid's office. Selphie already stood in front of the desk along with a dark-haired youth their age. The Faculty member stepped off to the side.

"These are the four that passed today's exam," he announced. All four of them stood at attention and saluted the headmaster, who gave them a warm smile in return.

"First of all, congratulations," he murmured kindly. Then he sighed. "However, from now on, as a member of SeeD, you will be dispatched all over the world. We are proud to introduce SeeD, Balamb Garden's mercenary soldiers. SeeD soldiers are combat specialists. _But," _he suddenly stressed, "that is only one aspect of SeeD. When the time comes—,"

"Headmaster," the Faculty member suddenly called, interrupting again. "It's almost time for the meeting," he announced. "Please make this short." Cid looked flustered, and Squall felt a twinge of annoyance stir in his chest because of it. The Faculty member stepped forward and continued in his place. "SeeD is a valuable asset to Garden. It's reputation is solely dependant on each one of you. Handle your mission with care. Is that what you wanted to say, sir?" he suddenly questioned, swinging back to the headmaster. Cid just nodded. The red-robed official turned back to them. "Here is your SeeD rank report!"

Cid came forward and handed Selphie her folder first, shaking her hand and leaning forward to offer a few hushed words. Even though she was on the other side of the line, Squall could just barely make out the words that were spoken—probably thanks to Shiva's assistance.

"I'm looking forward to the Garden Festival," he murmured with a grin, one she eagerly returned. Then Cid stepped over to the dark-haired youth and also shook his hand.

"Do your best," Cid murmured to the guy, "even if you don't stand out."

Next was Zell. "Try to control your emotions a little." Squall almost snorted at that one, but kept his stern mask on through years of practice. Cid finally came to him, handing him his folder and taking his hand in a firm shake.

"Finally," Cid sighed, "a gunblade specialist."

Cid stepped back to his desk and the Faculty member snapped to attention. "This ends the SeeD Inauguration. Dismissed!"

All four of them turned and exited the room and got in the elevator. Squall winced as Selphie and Zell immediately began hooting and hollering with joy. The other kid put a finger to one of his ears to try and block the noise, but grinned at their enthusiasm. Squall just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, then glanced at his scores.

_**SeeD Graduation Report : **Squall Leonhart_

**_Conduct :_** _70_

**_Judgment :_** _100_

**_Attack :_** _80_

**_Spirit :_** _100_

**_Attitude :_** _100_

**_SeeD Rank :_** _8_

**_Bi-Weekly Salary :_** _6000 gil_

Squall smirked, then closed his folder again and straightened as the elevator doors opened with a _ding. _

Zell and Selphie began skipping and strutting down the hall. Squall and the other guy followed along more sedately. They all hesitated at the crowd that had gathered at the end of the hall. Among them was Seifer, Raijin and Fujin on either side of him. Squall tensed.

Seifer gazed at them, his expression unreadable, green eyes shuttered. Squall didn't know what to expect, though it certainly wasn't for the blonde to suddenly start clapping and give them a genuine smile of congratulations. Very slowly Fujin joined in, then Raijin, and then the whole hallway full of people were applauding and cheering. Zell and Selphie immediately started posturing. Squall just stood perfectly still, his eyes never leaving Seifer's.

Squall was now a SeeD. Seifer wasn't. Their balance had just been broken.

* * *

Seifer sighed heavily as he watched Squall and the others head off toward the classroom to go be pawned and preened over by the cadets. Fujin sighed herself, shaking her head. Raijin just clapped him heavily on the shoulder. Seifer did his best not to dwell. He never liked feeling sorry for himself. It always pissed him off when other people did it, and the last thing he wanted to be was a hypocrite. 

_These humans are pathetic fools, _Tiamat suddenly commented of a sudden, and the sound of his offended anger made Seifer smile.

_Military organizations tend to have a problem with free-thinkers, _Seifer answered in his mind, to which the Dragon Prince snorted, clearly not impressed with this logic.

_I am the Prince of Dragons, _he announced arrogantly. _I am one of few of the Guardian Forces not in any real need of a human host to survive. I can assume physical form for years at a time, and if I choose to ally myself with another being, it is for a specific reason. You are a king among common men, hatchling, _was Tiamat's biased opinion, then. _These other humans should be praising you, not squashing you beneath their jealous, prejudiced boot heels._ _And I still say you should have let me unleash Dark Flare on that ugly female who dared to insult you earlier, _Tiamat finished, now sounding more like a petulant child who'd been denied their favorite toy rather than the pompous Prince of Dragons he professed.

Seifer chuckled aloud at the thought of Tiamat hitting Xu with his ultimate attack. Half the reason why he hadn't replied to her taunt was that he'd been preoccupied with soothing the ruffled feathers of his easily angered GF—who at times was just a bit too overprotective of him than was necessary.

The other students began trickling away down the halls. Seifer turned to the other two, opening his mouth to ask them if they wanted to go back to his room and help him give that mutt—who was undoubtedly slobbering all over everything and spreading it's dirt and fleas everywhere—a bath. Yet all of a sudden Fujin's eye widened and she jabbed him in the ribs.

Seifer oofed, then turned back to see what she was staring at. His own eyes widened at the sight of a Faculty member approaching him, clipboard in hand.

"Almasy, Seifer," he called. "The Headmaster will see you now."

Seifer glanced at the other two, who shrugged. He finally strode off down the hall as he'd been ordered and entered the elevator, his mind going a hundred miles an hour. What did Cid want with him? Was he going to give him his punishment now? Seifer sneered. Probably a month in detention, if not a week in lock. He scowled then, hardening his features. If so, then so be it. Better to get it the hell over with.

He entered Cid's office and the Faculty member closed the double doors after him, leaving him alone in the room with the headmaster—who was currently leaning on one hip against his desk, arms crossed. He nodded that Seifer should approach, so he did so, fighting to keep his face blank. With just one look from those blue eyes Seifer always felt himself regressing back to his childhood, an errant six year old standing in front of this very same desk, hanging his head, being chastised for anything and everything under the sun.

Despite his best efforts, by the time he came to a stop in front of the headmaster—a man who had been his father figure for most of his life—his shoulders were hunched and his head hung low just like that snot-nosed kid of yester-year. Cid sighed heavily.

"You disobeyed direct orders, Seifer," he began heavily, "and in so doing you endangered—not only yourself—but your entire squad. When you're put into a position to lead, you _must_ consider all the consequences of your actions. Men will live—and die—by the orders and the decisions you make." Cid set the folder he'd been holding down on the desk top and crossed his arms, leaning more heavily on the desk behind him. "Not only did you ignore your orders, but your continued insistence on thumbing your nose at every rule and regulation set before you is troubling in the extreme."

"So you don't want to raise machines," Seifer suddenly interrupted bitterly, "but little dogs that always bark on command are perfectly acceptable?" Cid shook his head.

"You are one of my best and most promising students, Seifer," he returned, countering Seifer's bitter venom with softly-spoken praise. "You always have been, ever since you were a child. Always so passionate, so full of life, so determined to succeed no matter the cost. The last thing I want is for that passion and determination to be wasted now in your budding adulthood. But you _have _to learn how to temper that with humility and restraint. Or you're going to get yourself killed far before your time."

Cid's gentle castigating was effecting him far too much for comfort, so Seifer forced himself to lift his head and give the older man a glare.

"Can you just get to the part where you tell me what my punishment is so I can get this over with? I've got a dog in my room probably pissing on the floor as we speak." Cid just gave him a look in response to that, and Seifer swallowed any other snotty comments, turning his eyes back to the floor.

"I have your exam scores here," he announced, reaching for the folder again and opening it, "as well as your performance review. Disturbing lack of control," he read, "arrogant to a fault, no discipline, complete disregard for anyone other than himself."

Seifer grit his teeth. _Yeah, I don't give two shits about anyone but me. That's why I kept Chicken-wuss from falling apart after he snapped that guy's neck. That's why I saved him from that huge ass snake. That's why I jumped in and kept that Messenger Girl from getting torn apart by that demon thing. That's why I hung back and helped defeat the Widow, and made sure everybody got out to the boat okay. That's why I rescued that stupid fucking dog. Arrogant and selfish to a tee, that's me. _

"Every one of your scores—aside from Attack, are deplorable," Cid continued mercilessly. "Every single instructor on the field today voted for you to fail this exam. However, as the headmaster of this facility, I have the final say and can—if I see fit—override their decision." Seifer tensed, and then slowly looked back up, his eyes beginning to round with disbelief. Cid sighed and set the folder back down. "I'm going to go against everyone else's recommendation and graduate you today," he proclaimed, stunning Seifer all the way down into his toes. "As of today, you are officially a member of SeeD. You represent Garden, and you represent me." His expression became suddenly fierce and stern, blue eyes steely. "Do _not _make me regret it."

Seifer just stood there, mouth somewhat agape. Cid smirked after a moment, then reached over and handed him his folder. Seifer blinked, then glanced down. He winced.

_**SeeD Graduation Report : **Seifer Almasy_

**_Conduct :_** _10_

**_Judgment :_** _20_

**_Attack :_** _100_

**_Spirit :_** _30_

**_Attitude :_** _10_

**_SeeD Rank :_** _1_

**_Bi-Weekly Salary :_** _500 gil _

Seifer scowled. "Rank 1?!" he burst out, incensed. He lowered the folder and pinned Cid with a black scowl. "Well geez, don't go doin' _me_ any favors, Headmaster," he sneered. "Rank 1?! You've gotta be shitting me!"

Cid just shook his head and sighed, re-crossing his arms. "Be thankful for what you have, Seifer," he admonished sternly. "If you want your rank to increase, then you're going to have to show me you want it. Your behavior from now on will have to reflect that. I don't want you to follow every order blindly, and I don't want you to become a machine or a dog. But I _do _want you to tone down your arrogance, become a team player and become the man I've always hoped you'd be."

Seifer sighed at that, then straightened and for the first time in nearly six years he gave someone a proper salute, perfect to the letter. Cid grinned, then nodded.

"Dismissed."


	7. Chapter 6 : Dance with the Balamb Fish

**Chapter 6**

_Dance with the Balamb-Fish_

Seifer stood in front of the mirror of his room, allowing Fujin to fuss with the fastenings of the ink-black SeeD jacket he'd just put on, getting him ready for the SeeD Inauguration Ball being held tonight. Raijin sat on the bed in the background, half-playing, half-fighting with the dog they'd cleaned an hour or two before.

Now free from the grime and filth, it revealed most of the shaggy creature's coat to be a soft burnished gold, with paler white-blonde markings reminiscent of a collie on it's face and rump. It was still skinnier than it should have been, but it looked a lot better than it had before.

"Third time's the charm," Raijin was crowing triumphantly, "just like my granddad always said, ya know! I still can't believe you actually passed this time, ya know? Ouch!"

Seifer smirked as Mutt—they'd discovered in the course of it's bath that the dog was in fact a he, but Seifer still hadn't decided on a real name yet—suddenly snapped out and bit Raijin in the arm as if in retaliation for such an insulting statement, even if it was unintentional.

Seifer gently batted Fujin's hands away, then finished with zipping up his jacket himself. He smirked at his reflection as the metal ropes settled over his chest. He cut quite a good-looking and rather badass figure if he did say so himself. He sighed heavily then. He still couldn't believe that he'd finally done it. He was finally SeeD—even if it _had_ been a pity graduation and he was currently ranked as absolutely low on the totem pole as one could get.

It was still a damn good feeling.

Fujin smirked as well, then her eyebrow rose.

"DATE?" He glanced at her, then sighed and shook his head.

"Nah, nothin' on such a short notice. I'm just gonna go stag." Then he grinned. "Maybe pick me up a little somethin' while I'm there."

Fujin's response to that was to roll her eye, but she said nothing.

* * *

Elsewhere Squall finally broke away from the slavering cadets and headed into his room. He was startled however to find Selphie standing there—now dressed smartly in black as a SeeD.

"Hah!" she crowed after he'd entered and closed the door behind him. "Found you!" She struck a pose. "Well, what do you think? It's my SeeD uniform!" Squall said nothing. Somehow, even after witnessing her skill on the battlefield, the staid and severe uniform just didn't seem to fit the bouncy, energetic girl. He couldn't very well say that out-loud however, so opted for silence. She sighed after a moment, then jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. "You better get changed too. We have that party to get to."

Squall rolled his eyes. If it wasn't required, he wouldn't even bother. Parties and celebrations weren't his thing. It was required however, so he entered into his bedroom and shut the door, then set about removing his student uniform for the last time and dressing instead in the black uniform that now hung from the back of the door. To himself, even Squall had to admit that putting on the clothes just made him _feel _stronger, more important. More adult. Squall ran a quick hand through his hair, then sighed and exited. Selphie grinned.

"Heeey," she cried, "lookin' good!" Squall rolled his eyes again. Quickly becoming immune to his blandness, Selphie just pumped a fist into the air—undaunted. "Alright. Let's hit that _pah-tay!"_

Twenty minutes later Squall stood on the sidelines of Balamb Garden's 2nd story ballroom, bored out of his mind. A hired waitress neared him, a platter of champagne glasses balanced in one hand. She offered him one, which he took, then moved away again. He sighed, then took a sip. He made a face. Geez, it tasted like bad seltzer water.

"Yo!"

Squall turned and tensed when Zell suddenly ran up, also dressed now in a SeeD uniform. He put a hand to his hip, crossing one foot over the other. "S'up, Squall," he murmured, grinning. "Hehehe, I guess we're both SeeDs now, huh?" He rubbed his fist on his pants leg, then held it out. "Put it there, man." Squall just gave him a droll look before turning to stare out onto the dance floor and taking a bigger swill of the alcohol in his hand. Zell just sighed, hand dropping away again, and gave a dry chuckle. "Hah, even as a SeeD, you're still the same. Well, that's typical of you." Squall glanced back at him, brow furrowing, wondering what the martial-artist meant by that. Zell just gave him one of his toothy grins. "See ya."

Then he turned and ran a couple of steps away, only to be cornered by Selphie.

"Oh, hey Zell," she called cheerfully. "You wanna join the Garden Festival Committee and—,"

"Sorry," Zell interrupted, hands raising. "I . . . ah . . . just remembered something. G-Gotta go. See ya!"

Zell turned on his heel and took off into the crowd. Selphie put her hands on her hips, frowning. "Hmm." Squall started a little with an inward groan as she spun about and then caught sight of him. Her pout disappeared into a grin as she ran forward. "Squall! Hi! Wanna join the Garden Festival Committee? You can help out whenever you have the time." Squall turned back to the crowd. "Please?" He took a bigger drink of his champagne. Selphie heaved an aggravated sigh, then finally gave up and trotted off to go waylay someone else.

Squall sighed himself, leaning back heavier against the wall. How long did he have to stay here before he could make his excuses and escape back to his room? Why did he even have to be here anyhow? This didn't serve any real purpose, other than to drive him to distraction with boredom and annoyance. He stared up at the night sky through the ballroom's skylight. All of a sudden he saw a shooting star streak across the sky. He stared for a moment, then his eyes dropped back down level. He tensed when he suddenly spotted someone that he hadn't ever seen before.

A lone girl stood in the center of the floor, her head tilted back and staring up at the skylight as well. She was on the smaller side of average in height, her body slender yet supple beneath the thin white sheath she wore. An inch-thick ribbon wrapped around her neck and crisscrossed down to hem the neckline in front, which wrapped down underneath her arms and across the blades of her shoulders in back. The dress hugged her curves without being too blatantly sexual, the hem of the fluttery skirt falling to mid-thigh, with about two inches of the gauzy see-through fabric overlapping the dress that fell beyond that nearly to her knees. Thick black hair fell loose down to mid-back, a few streaks in the front dyed a red-gold. When she suddenly turned in his direction, Squall noticed that she was wearing a thin silver chain with a plain white-gold band hanging from it. He also noticed that she had a pair of the prettiest brown eyes he'd ever seen.

He tensed when she suddenly smiled at him, and then pointed upward—apparently having seen the shooting star as well. Then the girl began walking in his direction. Squall felt a moment of panic seize him, yet there was no where to run and no way to turn and leave without looking like a complete coward. So he opted to remain perfectly still, glass half-raised, with the familiar cold stare on his face. Undaunted, the female came right up to him and gave him a grin that made him feel faintly as if someone had just kicked him in the teeth.

"You're the best looking guy here," she pronounced, voice soft and melodic, getting straight to the point apparently. Squall felt his eyebrow twitch. "Dance with me?"

Squall finished the champagne in his glass, glancing away. He heard her sigh.

"Let me guess. You'll only dance with someone you like." He didn't respond, and he heard her heave another sigh. "Ok then." He glanced back, thinking she meant to leave—and struggling with the strange sensation of disappointment that struck him. Instead he found her crouching slightly in front of him and then she started waving her fingers in his face. "You're-going-to-like-me," she chanted in a mono-tone, her expression caught between serious and smiling. "You're-going-to-like-me . . ." She straightened, now grinning. "Did it work?"

Squall couldn't help it. He chuckled, which she echoed, then he sighed and shook his head.

"I can't dance," he announced then, hoping to dissuade her from her idea. Of course that wasn't true. He'd been trained in about twenty different styles of dancing from the time he was twelve years old, it was a requirement for SeeD.

The girl waved away his protest like so much flies. "You'll be fine," she insisted. "Come on, I'm looking for someone," she announced, grabbing him by the arm and then physically dragging him forward. "I can't be out on the dance floor alone."

Squall was so stunned, he couldn't even think to put up a fight to keep her from propelling him forward onto the floor. He was damn near a half a foot taller than her and probably outweighed her in muscle by at least a hundred pounds, yet the spunky little raven-haired beauty pulled on him determinedly until she spun back around and grinned. Still startled, Squall barely reacted when she grabbed his hands and placed them where she wanted him, then took a hold and started leading them. Or trying to. They stumbled off balance, cavorted crazily and then nearly toppled over.

Squall pulled his hands away finally and turned to leave, and even managed to stalk a few steps away before the girl managed to grab him again. Somehow Squall found himself trying to dance with her again. Unfortunately she apparently didn't know that the guy was supposed to lead, and she ended up causing them to collide with another couple. The SeeD and his blonde date—dressed kind of trashy in a skin-tight red leather dress with a black feather ruff around her shoulders and matching full-length ball gloves—gave them dirty looks before they turned away. The girl stuck her tongue out at their backs, then turned back to him, dark eyes pleading. Squall sighed, feeling his resolve crumble like sand on the shore.

He took her firmly by the waist, pulled her arm up—ignoring her faintly startled look—and then pulled them into a perfectly executed waltz. The music swirled and flowed around them to it's crescendo as Squall led the girl in their dance. As the last notes faded they ended up chest to chest, hand to hand. Squall felt his breath catch, staring down into her wide dark eyes, very aware of the soft curves brushing his harder frame, of her tiny palm pressed against his, of the feel of his hand buried in the small of her back.

The moment was broken by the sound of fireworks exploding above. Both of them turned and stared up at the skylight to see the bright display, backing away slightly. Squall managed to catch his breath, smiling slightly, then turned back to her—suddenly realizing that he didn't even know her name.

He discovered the girl staring over his shoulder. Her expression brightened considerably as she apparently caught sight of someone. She turned back and smiled, giving him the signal to wait a moment, then she stepped around him and hurried off through the crowd.

Squall stared after her, confused and even a little scared of how much it bothered him that she'd just left him. Determined to forget about it, he turned on his heel and then stalked out onto the balcony beyond the dance floor.

* * *

Seifer sat on one side of the bar, nursing a glass of Winhill Whiskey. There had been many stunned expressions greet him when he'd strolled into the ballroom earlier decked out in his SeeD finery. He'd enjoyed them immensely, up until the point where they'd refused him entry until after consulting the guest list. Twice. Much of the pleasure of his triumph had been squelched after that, and his mood had only worsened as he continued to garner rude stares and dark muttering.

Apparently not many were as pleased as he had been about his surprise promotion. In fact, he had yet to see anyone give him a smile and congratulate him. Seifer scowled down at the amber liquid in his glass, then tipped it back. He winced at the fire that burned down his throat, but the numbing sensation in his gut afterward was more than worth the pain. He sighed loudly afterward. Here, he was supposed to be celebrating and having fun. Instead he was sitting here moping at the bar and on the verge of getting drunk. When had things gone wrong?

"I'll admit I never thought I'd see the day."

Seifer felt his whole body tense up at that cool voice. He tightened his fist around his empty glass, scowling, before he motioned to the guy behind the bar to fill it back up. The bartender did so dubiously as Quistis took a seat next to him.

"I hope you realize what an honor and a gift you've been given, Almasy," she continued, her snotty tone like nails on a chalk-board, and Seifer grit his teeth hard.

"Yeah, it's a real honor for Cid to get me in on a fucking pity vote," he sneered bitterly, turning to give her a narrow glare.

Quistis sat in street clothes, surprisingly, her glasses absent as well. She wore a peach zip-front top undone from the high neck and a matching knee-length skirt over her heeled black boots, the long sleeves a darker brown. Her golden hair was still pulled back into that severe clip, her glacial blue eyes just as cold as usual, expression just as disapproving. It really was the last thing he needed right now.

She snorted and shook her head, turning forward on the stool and motioning for the bartender to give her a glass of white wine. "I don't know why I thought, even for a moment, that you might be grateful for someone actually sticking up for you—Hyne only knows why anyone would do so." She turned back to him. "It's not as if you ever show even the tiniest bit of appreciation."

"Enough with the lectures, Trepe," he snapped. "I ain't your fuckin' student anymore."

"No, but that doesn't mean you've actually learned _anything _I _ever _tried to teach you," she shot back, just as furious for some reason. Also, curiously, Seifer could detect a shard of hurt in her blue eyes as she narrowed them on him. "Always going out of your way to undermine my authority in front of others, fighting me at every turn, as insolent and arrogant and spiteful as you could possibly manage to be. And now, when Cid gives you your dream on a silver platter, you sneer at that too."

Seifer's scowl turned black.

"Don't you _ever_ try to psyche-eval me, Trepe! You don't know the first fuckin' thing about what you're talking about. You ain't no older or holier than I am, _Instructor,_ so don't even try to feed me that self-righteous bullshit!" She gasped, eyes rounding, face paling a little. He sneered down at her, merciless. "As far as my _gratitude, _it's kinda hard to enjoy my change in status when everyone around me is whispering about how much of a joke it is, how much I don't deserve it and how badly Cid must've felt for my pathetic ass to throw me a fuckin' bone."

He'd managed to accomplish the impossible, striking Quistis speechless. He glared down at her for a moment longer, then turned away and slung back his full glass in one pull. "Now do me a favor," he heaved, voice hoarse from the alcohol and maybe even from the emotions clogging his throat as well, "go find your precious little Puberty Boy and leave me the hell alone."

There was a long moment of silence, and then he tensed when he felt her hand suddenly grip his shoulder. Not in anger. Almost . . . comforting.

"I'm sorry, Seifer," she murmured. Seifer winced, eyes closing.

_Hyne-dammit, please, _he murmured silently. _Don't pity me. Hyne, anything but that. _

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier," she continued, voice soft and gentle for the first time he could ever remember, at least when she was speaking to him. "You might not have been the best student," she sighed, "but that doesn't mean you aren't a hell of a good soldier." He glanced at her and she gave him a strangely bitter smile. "If Headmaster Cid graduated you, then there's a damn good reason for it, and that's because he believes you can and will be an asset to Garden and to SeeD." She took her hand away, then stood. "Good luck, Seifer. And congratulations. You've earned it."

Seifer stared after her as she drifted back into the crowd. He scowled, feeling torn between anger and guilt. Hyne-dammit. Just what was with her tonight, anyhow? Since when did the Ice Queen of Balamb feel sorry for him or congratulate him on anything? What, she couldn't find Puberty? Surely he was around here somewhere. Seifer found himself swinging around on the stool to face the dance floor, eyes scanning the crowd. He could've sworn he'd seen Leonhart standing on the edge of the action, being a boring-ass lump-on-a-log as usual . . . . Seifer's whole body tensed, eyes rounding, as he finally caught sight of Squall . . . and namely, who he was currently dancing with. Now that was just downright ironic. And creepy.

What were the chances of Seifer's rival finding and dancing with his own former girlfriend? He winced, then sighed. There was no doubt in his mind, that slender raven-haired beauty in the white dress was Rinoa Heartilly, a girl he'd met last summer in Timber.

After his first disastrous field exam, Seifer had been more than a little shaken and took an extended vacation from Garden in an attempt to find his feet again and re-evaluate what he wanted in life. After all, if he was unable to take another person's life without puking over it, he'd never amount to a hill of beans in the mercenary trade. Cid—more than sympathetic toward his problem—had given Seifer enough of an allowance to live out four months in a faraway town of Timber, on the Galbadian continent.

While there he'd quickly gotten caught up in the strange factions of resistance fighters there. Seemed like everyone was a resistance member in Timber, fed up and pissed off at the Galbadian government's occupation. Namely, he'd become involved with a certain dark-haired sixteen year old girl spear-heading one such group, called the Forest Owls. She and her subordinates had been fascinated by his SeeD training and his skills because of it. It had been fun—strangely cathartic in a way—to hang out with Rinoa, Watts and Zone and cook up one crazy plan after another to take down the Galbadians and liberate Timber. It wasn't long before his and Rinoa's friendship grew into something more romantic in nature.

She needed him, depended on him, made Seifer feel loved and wanted unconditionally for once in his life, and it was a heady feeling. Rinoa had told him once that he made her feel confident, strong, like she could take on the world so long as he was at her side. Yet their torrid summer romance wasn't to last. In the end, Rinoa had been just a little _too _clingy, too needy. She needed someone to make her his whole entire world, and Seifer just wasn't capable of doing that. At least not then, at seventeen with his head full of dreams and aspirations of a much grander future.

After a half-assed attempt to sabotage a Galbadian supply train ended up getting Seifer caught, he'd been forced to kill the guards holding him or end up in a prison cell somewhere. The kills had been hard to do, but not as terrible as the first. Proving to himself that he could do the job when it needed doing.

A week later he'd boarded the train back to Balamb, steeling himself against Rinoa's tears as she watched him leave. He hadn't seen her or heard from her since, and—though it made him wince a little—hadn't really thought about her all that much either. That more than anything solidified in his mind the fact that they weren't really meant to be together. Still, he didn't wish her ill will. Rinoa would probably always have a special little place for herself in his heart. He just wasn't in love with her, probably never had been—even though she'd given him those words more than once during their time together.

He tensed when, after her and Squall's dance was over and the fireworks began to light up the sky, she suddenly caught sight of him and brightened. She made her excuses to Pube, then began eagerly in his direction. Seifer swore under his breath, praying she wasn't here in an attempt to rekindle things between them.

"Seifer!" she called as she neared, grinning. Seifer fought to return her smile. "Oh Hyne, it's so good to see you!" she gushed, rushing up to him and giving him a hug. He sighed, patting her back somewhat uncomfortably, doing his best to ignore the curious and disbelieving stares they were getting.

"Hey Rin," he returned, then sighed when she pulled straight again. "You're looking good," he offered diplomatically. She chuckled.

"You don't look so bad yourself," she returned, standing back and giving him a once over—from his slicked-back reddish-gold hair down to the toes of his polished black boots. Her smirk turned faintly predatory. "I always knew you'd look good in that uniform." He chuckled, running a hand back through his hair, slightly uncomfortable under the praise. She laughed. "Just graduated?" He nodded. "I'm so happy for you, Seifer. I really am. You've got everything you've ever wanted."

Her dark eyes had turned glassy long before she'd finished her sentence, and Seifer inwardly groaned. He sighed.

"Rinoa—,"

She raised her hand, smiling through the tears gathering in her eyes, and shook her head so hard her dark hair flew out around her shoulders.

"No, Seifer, don't. I know it's over between us. I know. It's just . . . sometimes it's harder for us girls to accept it, okay?" He clenched his teeth, but finally nodded. She sighed. "Despite how this might look, I didn't show up here to try and win you back or anything. I just came hoping you might be able to make good on a promise you made me." His eyebrow quirked up. She took a deep breath, making an attempt to get a handle on her emotions. "Things are getting pretty bad back in Timber. I've decided that the suggestion you made—the one for us to hire SeeDs to help the Timber Owls—was a good one. I was hoping you could introduce me to your Headmaster, Mr. Cid. I've sent several requests, but none of them have been answered. I thought it might be better to talk to him face to face."

Seifer held her gaze for a moment longer, then nodded and stood. Her dark head barely reached his collarbone. He'd always given himself a helluva crick in the neck trying to kiss her while standing. Surely that was yet one more reason why he should be completely convinced that he and Rinoa were never right for each other. He shouldn't feel _near_ so damned guilty for breaking her heart as he had.

Seifer took Rinoa by the elbow and led her through the throng, until they approached Cid—standing off to the side-lines talking to a couple of other instructors. The older man turned when he caught sight of them, and excused himself from the others before stepping forward. His eyebrow raised at Seifer's serious expression.

"Headmaster? Uh . . . th-this is a friend of mine, Rinoa Heartilly." Cid smiled benevolently and took Rinoa's hand when she offered it.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," she murmured.

"The pleasure is all mine, my dear," he returned politely. "I'm sure my view is far more pleasurable than yours." Rinoa chuckled, but Cid soon turned back to Seifer, expression questioning. Seifer cleared his throat.

"Rinoa here is from Timber. You remember I went there last summer. To . . . y'know . . . get away for a while." Cid nodded so he quickly plowed ahead. "She's a member of one of their resistance groups, the Forest Owls. Things are getting kinda hairy down there. Rinoa asked me to introduce her, so she could speak to you personally about maybe issuing them a SeeD contract. Thing is . . . the Owls don't really have a whole lot of Gil," he admitted at last. He swallowed as Cid met his stare steadily, blue eyes eerily discerning. "Their hearts are in the right place, but they don't really have a whole lot of resources or man-power. I was . . . well, I was hoping you might consider the job anyhow, sir." Admitting the next part was almost like swallowing acid. "I would be very grateful, and in your debt." Then Seifer straightened. "And if you need volunteers for the mission, I'd be more than willing to do so."

Seifer kept his gaze on Cid, refusing to look down and see Rinoa's reaction. No doubt she'd have her big heart in her equally big brown eyes, and he _really _didn't need a bigger guilty conscience right now. Cid sighed after a moment, then nodded.

"Very well, Seifer. I'm intrigued. Miss Heartilly?" he turned to Rinoa, and held out his arm. "Shall we adjourn to my office? You can tell me more of Timber's troubles and your proposition there."

"O-of course!" Rinoa stumbled, quickly moving forward and putting her hand on Cid's arm. "Thank you, sir," she gushed. He chuckled.

"Think nothing of it, child. And please, call me Cid. A beautiful girl like you calling me 'sir' makes me feel ancient."

Cid began leading Rinoa out of the ballroom. She turned around once, mouthing the words 'thank-you-so-much,' before turning forward again. Seifer watched them leave, then turned on his heel and stalked from the ballroom himself. He went to his dorm room to change, putting on a pair of jeans instead and a plain white t-shirt, Balamb Garden's emblem on the back. Mutt sat in the middle of his bed, cocking his furry head to the side as Seifer grabbed up Hyperion and clipped it to his belt.

"I'll be back in an hour or two," he told the dog needlessly, reaching over to ruffle his ears. "Gonna go chase some curfew-breakers around the training center and blow off some steam. Don't wait up for me."


	8. Chapter 7 : Fates and First Missions

**Chapter Seven**

_Fates and First Missions_

Squall leaned against the banister of the balcony, staring out at the beach beyond. Why in the hell had that girl effected him so deeply? Sure, she was pretty, but there were a lot of pretty girls here in Garden and none of them had caused him to damn-near make a fool of himself in public like that. His expression hardened. Whatever the heck it was, he couldn't risk it again. Best if he never saw her again. Ever.

Squall turned slightly when he heard footsteps approach behind him. Only his rigid control kept him from groaning aloud as he caught sight of Instructor Trepe nearing.

"You really are an excellent student," she murmured. "Even that dance was perfect." Squall sighed, hands flexing on the stone railing.

"Thank you," he finally conceded, though somewhat stiffly. He hoped she would be satisfied with that and leave him alone. He should've known better. After several moments he straightened and glared out into the night. "Yes?" he heaved.

"So," she returned somewhat bitterly, "you'll dance with someone you don't even know, but you can't stand being around me?" Squall rolled his eyes heavenward.

" . . . whatever," he muttered, then turned around to give her a glare. "You're an instructor, and I'm your student," he pronounced at last, trying his damndest to make her understand. "It's kind awkward when you don't say anything."

She gave a bitter laugh. "That's true. I was like that myself." She stared at him, then seemed to forcefully change subjects. "Oh, I almost forgot," she announced, even know they both knew damn well she hadn't forgotten anything. "I wonder what's to become of me?" Quistis continued cryptically before she shook herself and then centered her gaze on his steadily. "I've come to give you an order. You and I are to go to the 'secret area.' It's where students secretly meet up and talk after curfew. It's inside the training center."

Squall scowled. "What do you want to do there? Are we going to tell everyone they're breaking curfew? If that's the case, forget it." He turned away again. "Leave that for the Disciplinary Committee."

Quistis chuckled again, but there was no humor to it. "Go get changed," she ordered then, her tone broking no argument, "and meet me in front of the training center. This will be my last order," she finished, again with that cryptic crap.

Squall spun around to pin her with his steely stare. Quistis' expression remained firm. Finally Squall turned at last and then brushed past her to go do as she'd 'ordered,' scowl dark. He headed into the dorms and then into his room.

_Get changed and meet in the training center? _he wondered inwardly. _What's this all about? _

Squall changed into a pair of jeans, a white t-shirt and his jacket—grabbing his Revolver—and then left again off to the training center. Quistis waited for him just inside the green hallway, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. She straightened as he approached, unclipping her whip and giving it an experimental crack—which echoed eerily down the deserted hallway.

"Come on," she heaved, turning to lead the way, "let's go to the secret area. It's just inside the training center."

They started forward into the swelteringly hot room, decorated with dirt and trees to resemble a tropical jungle. Aside from the metal grating peeking through every now and then and the high-powered electrical fence that kept the deadly flora and fauna inside, the monster's lair pulled it off nicely.

Quistis turned to the left and headed through the door. What few Grats attempted to impede their path were quickly dealt with. The huge T-Rexaur that currently roamed the area wouldn't be active at this time of night. They headed around toward the back of the circular room, and then back through the hole in the wall. It lead to a balcony of metal grating that overlooked the courtyard of Garden, a hidden little getaway.

The four students within tensed at the sight of Quistis, but she didn't pay them any mind, heading for the very back of the little alcove to the edge. Squall followed uncomfortably, not liking the curious stares that followed them. Great, now it'd be all over Garden tomorrow morning that he and Quistis had gone here together. Is that what she wanted, for everyone else to think they were dating?

"I haven't been here for a while," she murmured softly, lifting her arms up onto the railing. Squall came to stand next to her and leaned against the railing as well, trying to keep a handle on his impatience and annoyance. They stood in silence for several moments, then she suddenly turned to him. "What time is it?"

Squall turned to glare at her profile, suspicious and confused as to what the hell was really going on. He finally glanced down at his watch, then sighed. "It's after midnight."

Quistis' whole body seemed to slump. She put her chin down onto her folded arms and heaved a heavy sigh. "Oh well." There was another long pause, then, "I, Quistis Trepe, am no longer an instructor, as of now! I'm a member of SeeD now, just like you." She turned to him, forcing a smile. "Who knows, maybe we'll end up working together."

Aha, so _that's _what all of this had been about. He glanced at her, then turned forward again and continued staring out at the landscape beyond. "Oh really?" he murmured after another moment. She sighed loudly at that, then wrenched back forward and glared out into the night.

"Is that all you're going to say?"

Squall didn't respond for several moments. He was pissed, annoyed as hell that she would drag him out here just to dump all her problems on him, as if she had the right to. She was—had been—his instructor, that's all. They'd never been friends or involved romantically despite her every attempt otherwise. Why did he have to stand here and listen to this? Despite his rancor, he wasn't _that _mean-spirited, so didn't say any of his real thoughts aloud. Instead he just sighed again. "If that's how it was decided, you have to abide by it."

Unfortunately his attempt not to be cruel gave her the wrong impression, that he was open to hearing more of her depressed views. He bit back an impatient sigh as she shook her head and then slumped further, staring off listlessly into the distance.

"They told me that I failed as an instructor. Basically that I lacked leadership qualities." She lapsed into silence for a few moments, then suddenly pronounced, "I was a SeeD by the age of 15, got my instructor license at 17. It's only been a year since I got it . . ."

Squall turned away from the balcony, annoyed and highly uncomfortable. She continued, oblivious for a moment.

"I wonder where I went wrong," she mused miserably. "I did my best . . ." Quistis noticed then that he'd turned away for she straightened suddenly and when next she spoke, her voice was much sharper. "Are you listening?"

Squall decided that it was time to stop playing nice. He didn't turn around. "Are you done yet?" he demanded coldly, turning his back to the scenery and propping his elbows on the ledge. "I don't wanna talk about it," he announced. "What am I supposed to say about other people's problems?"

"I'm not asking you to say anything," Quistis entreated desperately. "I just want you to listen."

Squall scoffed angrily, shoving himself away from the ledge. "Then go talk to a wall," was his harsh response. She gaped at him, stunned.

"Aren't there times when you want to share your feelings with someone?"

There she went again, trying to get inside his head. He took a step away from the balcony, heading back inside. "Everyone has to take care of themselves." He hesitated, turning back to look at her over his shoulder. "I don't want to carry anyone's burden."

Then he left the room entirely.

Back inside, Quistis put a hand to her throat, eyes wide and troubled. She felt the hot sting of tears gather, though she refused to let them fall. She hadn't cried a day in her life ever since she'd run away from an unloving foster home and enlisted in Balamb Garden at the age of ten. Instead she shoved a hank of her hair back behind her ear, mouth thinning into an embittered line.

". . . no leadership qualities," she murmured. "Failed instructor. Perhaps they were right."

* * *

Seifer stood hidden just to the side of the balcony, remaining perfectly still and silent as Quistis eventually released a heavy sigh and then trailed after her perfect Pubes, as usual. He remained motionless for several moments after she'd disappeared, still struggling to put a leash on the riot of emotions running a gamut in his mind.

He'd never come so close to wanting to beat the ever-living shit out of someone or something, just because, until this moment. Even now he felt his chest burn with something that felt a lot like jealous rage. Trepe had lost her license—probably because of him, an inner voice quipped bitterly—and of course who was the first person she ran to, to lick her wounds? Pubes. And what did Leonhart do? Blew her off like so much garbage, just like always. It was Hyne-damned pathetic! Seifer clenched his fists until they shook, and the nails of his fingers began biting into the flesh of his palms.

_Go talk to a wall? I'll admit, I can be an asshole sometimes Leonhart, but that one really took the cake! _

What Seifer had yet to understand was why all of this was making him so pissed off. So what if Trepe wanted to continue chasing after Squall like a cheap whore and get turned down time and time again? So what if she was now no longer an instructor and now had no moral dilemma holding her back from doing just that? So what if it was all his fault? What did it matter to him?

_You are a fool to allow another to speak so to your mate, hatchling, _Tiamat suddenly thundered. Seifer's eyes bulged at that, and he gasped so hard he nearly choked.

"What?" he demanded aloud, and won the nervous glance of more than one student hiding out in here. He felt his face heat, then he cleared his throat and motioned angrily. "What-What . . . what in the hell are you little twerps doing in here?!" he covered quickly. "Get back to your rooms right now before I throw every one of your little asses in detention for a month!"

His threat had the desired effect, and the other students quickly scrambled out and then disappeared. Afterward Seifer scowled.

_Just what in the hell was that all about? _he demanded telepathically of his GF. '_Cause I _know _you ain't implying what I think you're implying. _

_What, that the golden-crowned, blue-eyed human female is your heart-mate? Then yes, I am implying exactly what you think I am implying, little hatchling, _Tiamat responded, tone filled with arrogant humor. Seifer scoffed.

"Oh _hell_ no," he protested furiously out loud again, then gave a bitter bark of laughter. "Me and Trepe? Yeah, when Geezards fly, old man." Now it was Tiamat's turn to scoff, and Seifer scowled. "Look, we hate each other. Always have, always will, ever since our cadet days. Little miss bossy Quisty," he suddenly taunted with a sneer, though he paused for a moment afterward, wondering why the short of her name would tickle the back of his mind so. He shrugged off the strange feeling after a moment though, shaking his head. "Sure, I'll admit Trepe is kinda . . . hot . . . in a long-legged, toothpick skinny kind of way. And yeah, that whip of hers is totally kinky and designed solely to put impure thoughts into the vulnerable male mind. I might have indulged in the occasional wank fantasy, but that's it, that's as far as it goes between me and her. That chick is so Hyne-damned frigid she makes _Xu _seem warm and friendly by comparison. Not to mention that she's obsessed with Squall," he finished bitterly. "Squall this, Squall that. All she wants, all she's ever wanted, is Squall."

He started stalking out of the room. "Haven't you been paying the least bit of attention for the past ten years?" he then demanded, incensed and not completely understanding why. Tiamat just chuckled.

_I _have _been paying attention, far more than you have, hatchling, _was the dragon's cryptic response.

Seifer just shook his head and gave up on the futility of trying to argue with a dragon. He'd sooner win an argument with that near-by rock. Seifer took his annoyance out on the few Grats that decided to try and test him as he made his way back for the entrance. A sudden scream up ahead caught his attention however, causing him to jerk straight before running forward. He did so just in time to see Quistis and Squall tumbling out of the exit in front of him.

"Somebody help!" a female voice screamed from the front room.

"Come on, Squall!" Quistis cried, and both of them took off running. Seifer was no more than five feet behind them. All three of them skid to a halt as they exited and found a woman in her early twenties backed up against the fence by a huge bug-like monster and three other mole creatures. They were the Grenaldo and Raldos that had been brought in for the Senior Cadet's test later that week. _Somehow_ they'd gotten loose from the main area and Seifer sneered. Whoever was the genius who'd opted to get a flying monster to put in the training center needed to be bitch-slapped. Hard.

The woman turned to them, eyes wide.

"Squall!" she yelled, then squinted closer. "Quisty?" she then questioned. "Seifer?"

Quistis and Squall whirled back to stare at him. He gave them a smirk and a mocking salute, but his smile faded as the Grenaldo snarled and moved another threatening foot toward the woman. He'd worry about how in the hell she knew his name later.

He pulled Hyperion and then leapt forward. Squall was right beside him, and they both went after the big green bug. Quistis meanwhile focused her attacks on one of the armored mole creatures. She quickly dropped one while Squall and Seifer ducked and dodged the others being thrown by Grenaldo.

"Hey guys! The Raldos won't attack if Grenaldo is still alive," Quistis yelled out, her whip cracking up around her as she slung her arm and caught the end. "Go for them first, I'll take care of the bug."

Seifer fell back, giving her a confused glance. Squall did so as well. She ignored them both, eddies of magic beginning to swirl around her, eyes closed and lips moving in a preparation chant. Then her blue eyes snapped open and she held her arms out in front of her.

"Sleep!"

Seifer felt his jaw loosen, and he'd be damned if that bug didn't fall asleep mid-air. It thumped to the ground near-by.

"We can't kill the Grenaldo until the Raldos are defeated," she announced as she turned away and then went after another one of them. "Else they'll be driven into a frenzy. Quick, let's get this over with!"

Seifer snapped back at that, and he quickly made mince-meat of the other Raldo. Quistis defeated hers, then they turned to see Squall level the Revolver on the still-sleeping Grenaldo. He emptied his clip into it, and the thing never woke back up.

As soon as the battle was won, the woman pushed herself back off the fence, but she quickly collapsed to her knees afterward. Before Seifer could even think of stepping forward, two strangers dressed all in white suddenly flipped down from out of the rafters apparently and landed in crouches on either side of her.

"It's not safe here," one of them admonished gently but sternly. "Please, let's go."

The woman sighed. "Alright." Both men knelt and then helped her to stand. The one who hadn't spoken put an arm around her waist and lead her out, while the other one hung back and bowed to them before following after. All three of them watched silently until they were gone. Quistis was the first to break the silence.

"Who was that?" she questioned almost to herself. Seifer snorted.

"Beats the hell outta me. Weird, though, how she knew our names. Especially if none of us know her." He turned to give Squall a look, who curiously refused to return it. Seifer's eyes narrowed faintly, wondering if this was the woman he'd been talking about earlier that afternoon.

Seifer sighed loudly after a moment. "Well, if that's all the excitement you guys've got for me, I'm gonna go to bed."

He balanced Hyperion on his shoulder and headed out of the training center. No doubt Quistis wasn't done begging Squall for the night, and he was in no mood to witness it. Tiamat sighed, and he thought he heard the word _coward _echo out in his mind.

Though which one of them had thought it, he or Tiamat, he wasn't precisely sure.

* * *

Squall followed Quistis out of the training center, wondering who that strange woman was. She was the same one who had smiled at him in the infirmary earlier that morning, he was sure of it. How had she known his name? Or Quistis' and Seifer's for that matter. Both of them had acted as though that had been the very first time they'd seen her, so they couldn't've been the ones who'd told her their names. And _he _sure hadn't.

So then who?

Quistis suddenly stopped just before the hallway emptied out into the main part of Garden. She turned to him, expression earnest.

"Squall," she murmured. "It's not like everyone can get by on their own, you know?"

Then she turned on her heel and left him standing there, an uncomfortable frown on his face.

"Says who?" he asked no one, then sighed and left. He moved down the eerily silent hallways, then into the dorm area. Squall started in surprise when he found Zell standing there, apparently waiting for him.

"Finally!" the blonde cried, motioning angrily. "There you are! Where the hell were you? I was lookin' all over the place." When Squall gave no ready answer, Zell sighed and plowed ahead. "We're both members of SeeD now, right? Well, guess what? We get our own rooms baby!" Squall failed to show the same enthusiasm, so Zell just shook his head and got to the point. "Your new room's right across the hall from your old one. That's what I was asked to tell you." He gave Squall a mock-angry scowl. "Man, it took me forever!"

Squall just gave him a noncommittal wave, then moved past and headed for his new supposed room. Sure enough, his keycard now worked on the single room across the hall from his double. He entered and found all of his things moved, his gunblade case now leaning up against the wall. Squall closed the door and pulled off his jacket with a weary sigh.

"I'll just go to sleep," he murmured to no one in particular. Then got undressed and did just that.

* * *

Seifer jerked in bed as two noises began blaring out almost simultaneously. One was his phone ringing shrilly, the other was Mutt barking just as shrilly right in his ear—from where the dog had insisted on snuggling up next to his head on his pillow. Seifer was wide awake in seconds thanks to his SeeD training, but that didn't mean he was happy about it.

"Shut up, dog!" he snapped, feeling only marginally sorry when Mutt cowered at the sound of his voice and gave a little whimper, tail tucking between his legs. "And you piss on my pillow and I'm gonna be wearing a new doggie coat tomorrow," he snapped afterward, now well acquainted with the dog's propensity to piddle when he was nervous.

Seifer scrubbed a hand across his face, glancing at his digital clock as the phone gave another shrill peal. Good Hyne, it was only four-thirty in the morning. He'd only just gotten to sleep two hours ago, tops. The phone rang again, and Seifer finally grabbed it with an unintelligent grumble.

"What?!" he snarled.

"Assemble at the front gate in a half hour, Almasy," came Xu's terse voice on the other line. "You've been assigned your first mission. I'll brief you and the rest of your team when you arrive." Then the line went dead.

Seifer dropped the phone back on it's cradle, then collapsed back into his pillow with a groan. "Son of a bitch," he grumbled, his voice muffled into the cotton. He jerked slightly when Mutt started licking his ear. Even sleepy and pissed, he couldn't resist and started chuckling, then lifted up and gave the dog a playful ruffle.

"Looks like I gotta go earn some bacon," he heaved, letting out an jaw-splitting yawn before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up entirely. He headed into the bathroom, rubbing at his hair and staving off another yawn. Mutt yipped excitedly and bounded off the bed, following him.

Seifer quickly jumped in the shower to help chase away the rest of his grogginess—doing his best to ignore the dog who sat in rapt attention near the doorway watching his every move—then took care of his other ablutions before heading back into the main room with a towel wrapped around his waist and a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. Seifer nearly tripped over Mutt twice, who was now dancing around his feet eagerly. Any angry grumblings on his part were completely ignored.

He dressed in a pair of his usual black slacks and then sat down before pulling on some socks and his boots, then put on a black t-shirt in between brushing his teeth. Xu hadn't been very Hyne-damned specific on the phone, so if she didn't like his clothes she could just kiss his ass. Seifer grabbed his gray coat, slipping into the worn material and straightening it over his neck with a few tugs. He'd had the damned thing for as long as he could remember, and could no longer recall it's real origins, the memory obscured in a misty fog he could never seem to break through.

Seifer liked to think that the trench-coat had maybe belonged to his real father once upon a time, who must've been a citizen of the Estharian continent. The faded red Fire Crosses down the sleeves were the emblem of a now-dead and mostly forgotten society of men and women who belonged to an organization devoted to honor and the protection of all those of good intention who were too weak to protect themselves. They were known as Dragoons—or Dragon Knights. They'd been wiped out during the time of Sorceress Adel, long before the Sorceress War, and very few remained in the world who even knew the name or the symbol, let alone what it stood for. This coat was probably his most prized possession, why he wore it so much and probably a very big reason why Seifer had a somewhat silly obsession with knights. It was his own sad and pathetic way of trying to connect with a father he'd never known.

Seifer went back into the bathroom to rinse out his mouth of toothpaste, replacing his brush, then quickly ran a comb through his short hair. He left the bathroom again with a sigh and glanced at the clock. Ten minutes to spare. He glanced down a still-hyper Mutt and frowned.

"You have to go outside, don't you." The dog yipped several times in abject excitement, then began running around in tight circles, tail wagging a hundred miles an hour. Seifer just shook his head. He grabbed Hyperion out of it's case and then strapped it to his belt. "I'll take that as a yes," he muttered. "Come on, then, let's go. You're gonna have to hang out with Fuj and Raij until I get back from whatever the hell mission they're sending me on," he told the dog as he led the way out of the dorm rooms—as if the damn thing could actually understand him. Mutt panted happily as he trotted along side him, nails clicking merrily on the tile floor below. "We'll go to the monster's lair," he murmured softly, "it's closer."

He took the dog inside and then stood near-by in the first room as Mutt trotted off and began sniffing at the dirt and plants nearby. "Get your business done, dog," he snapped after a moment. "I'm running out of time here."

Not that Mutt was in any way intimidated by Seifer's demands, but the dog managed to finish it's business with relative swiftness, then he led it back into the dorms and up to Fujin's room. He knocked on the door, and then gave the sleepy female an apologetic wince as she opened the door and pinned him with a glare.

"Sorry Fuj, but I just got called out on a mission. Think you and Raij can keep an eye on the Mutt until I get back?"

Fujin yawned, then patted her thigh and stepped aside to let the dog scamper inside. "AFFIRMATIVE," she assured before she yawned again. "GOOD LUCK," she added, then closed the door again.

Seifer turned and then jogged his way back out of the dorm and out of Garden entirely. It was still dark outside in the predawn hours, but the near-by lights illuminated the three individuals waiting just outside the gate. Seifer hurried up, inwardly wincing at the ass-chewing he was sure to receive from the stern-faced Xu standing with her hands clasped in the small of her back.

"Two minutes late," she quipped as he trotted up. "Not the best way to start out your already shaky SeeD career, Almasy." He didn't bother trying to defend himself, knowing that it'd be pointless. He merely met her stare for stare. She held it for a moment more, then sighed. "Don't make it a habit." Then she turned to the others. "Almasy, meet your team for this mission. This is Alana Vesper," she indicated the shy library girl with her glossy black curls pulled back into a severe pigtail, who gave him a tentative smile. Then she gestured to the other guy, one who'd graduated with Squall. "And this is Nida Blaine. Nida, Alana, your team leader, Seifer Almasy. I'm sure you've heard of him."

"If you can't be famous, be infamous," he quipped, pricked by Xu's snotty tone. Amazingly she didn't grow angry. Instead she smirked and even chuckled a little, which made the little hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Xu being amused could never end well for him. "So get on with it already," he demanded. "What's the mission? And why the hell did we have to wake up before the crack of dawn for it?"

Xu's immensely pleased smile broadened. "Easy, Almasy. Predawn hours are when Grats are the most active."

Seifer opened his mouth, but no words would come out at first. Then he let out a blistering curse.

"Oh _hell _no!" he roared. "Like hell I'm going on a fucking monster corral!"


	9. Chapter 8 : Trains and Tentacles

**Chapter Eight**

_Of Timber Trains and Grat Tentacles_

Squall woke up the next morning to the sound of insistent rapping on his door. He rolled over, groaning and blinking through the faint streams of sunlight filtering in through his window.

"Squall!" Selphie's entirely-too-chipper-for-this-time-of-the-morning voice suddenly yelled through the paneling of his door, "it's our first SeeD mission! Looks like we're going to Timber. Meet by the front gate. Hurry!"

Then he heard the echo of her boots running away in another direction. Squall groaned again and rolled over until his face was buried in his pillow. Hyne strike him down now. His first SeeD mission, and he'd been paired with Selphie. Someone up there must _really _have it in for him.

After another moment of self-pity, Squall finally rolled out of bed, scrubbing at his face to try and remove the last bit of sleep, yawning a little and then heading into the bathroom. He jumped in the shower really quick—not knowing exactly how much time he had to get down to the gate, basically just getting wet and woke up—then hopped back out again, dried off and dressed in record time.

Squall took his Revolver out of it's case and raised the blade to eye-level, staring down the sharpened edge with a critical stare. The fight with those armored Raldos last night had caused a nick or two in the metal. He sighed. He was due for an upgrade soon anyhow. The last issue of Weapons Monthly had featured a fairly decent model that he was interested in, called a Shear Trigger. Sleek and silver, the newer model was less bulky than the Revolver but supposedly more sturdy as well. He might have to look into that in the next town he was in, wherever he was going.

Squall sighed—assuring himself that, while worn, his Revolver wouldn't be breaking any time soon—then clipped his gunblade to his belt. He then grabbed the small leather case on his nightstand, the SeeD Special as they were wont to call it. The little care package came equipped with 5 Potions, 3 Antidotes, 2 Remedies and 2 Phoenix Downs. The latter was not—as the name implied—a couple of mystical feathers. Instead they were syringes with scary-as-hell five inch long needles filled with a cocktail of fluids, namely among them pure adrenaline. When administered directly into the heart of a dying patient, it could keep them alive and their vitals functioning until that person could be taken to more professional help. As SeeD they were required to carry such items on their person at all times in case of emergencies. Squall stuck his into an inside pocket of his jacket, then turned to leave.

_Thus your journey begins._

Squall stopped dead in his tracks, eyes rounding, at the sound of that cool, deep feminine voice. He blinked, but Shiva said nothing else, so he just shook off the weird feeling from her unexpected, cryptic words and left the room.

Garden was just beginning to come awake at this hour—at nearly 6 AM. Squall passed through the nearly empty halls, then out the front gate. He spotted Selphie standing next to Headmaster Cid and a Garden Faculty member. The chipper female gave him an excited wave as he approached, practically hopping in place. She wore street clothes today, a denim jumper mini-dress in the brightest color of yellow he'd ever seen someone wear. She also had a pair of brown cowboy boots on that reached her knees, and a silver necklace around her neck, her chestnut hair done up in her usual flipped-up bob. Squall bit back a sigh, returning Cid's greeting with a nod before coming to stand next to the chipper Selphie, inwardly praying for patience and continued sanity.

"We're just waiting for the last member of the team," Cid announced softly. Squall was almost afraid to ask who that might be. The Faculty member glanced down at his watch after another moment, then let out a loud sigh.

"One more minute."

The sound of startled yelling and the whirring of a hover engine caused them all to turn. Squall felt his belly sink as he spotted Zell zigzagging around other students on a huge blue T-board. The blonde was dressed now in a pair of knee-length blue jean shorts, a tight black t-shirt and then a red and blue jacket on over that, blue flame designs down the shoulders on both sides. He ramped up over the gate, then swung around in front of them and hopped off, kipping up the board with a wide grin.

Even Cid was speechless for a moment, eyes wide.

"Made it!" Zell heaved breathily.

The Faculty member finally recovered his wits, motioning angrily with his arm. "T-boards are prohibited within Garden. Have you forgotten?" Zell winced.

"Oops, sorry!" He straightened though, expression earnest. "But this is really cool. It might come in handy on a SeeD mission someday."

The Faculty member was practically vibrating with displeasure. "We'll be the judges of that." He stepped forward and then snatched the board away from Zell, who was too stunned at first to react. The Faculty member turned to another one, who had approached at the commotion. He handed over the board. "Confiscate it," he ordered, and the other one immediately turned about and left. Then the other one swung back around to stare at each of them in turn. "All of you are members of SeeD, but nevertheless. You're still students at this Garden. Furthermore, because you are SeeDs you must set an example to all others and abide by Garden's rules. Understood?!" He finished the last with a pointed glare in Zell's direction. The hot-headed blonde growled a little under his breath, face flushing, but Cid quickly cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"Well, about your first mission," he began, arms folding into the small of his back. "You are to go to Timber. There you will be supporting a resistance faction. That is your mission." Cid met their gazes, one by one. "A member of the faction will contact you at Timber Station. This person will talk to you and say, 'The Forests of Timber sure have changed.' At this time you must reply, 'But the owls are still around.' That is the password. Just follow the faction's orders."

Zell glanced around, then turned back to pin Cid with a confused stare. "Uh . . . just us three?"

The Faculty member stepped forward again. "Correct. We have agreed to do this mission for very little money." His tone turned sneering. "Normally we would never accept such requests, but—,"

Cid suddenly cleared his throat and shot the Faculty member a withering glance, then turned back to them and gave them an uncomfortable smile. "Enough talk about that." He glanced and Squall and nodded. "Well then Squall, you're the squad leader. Use your best judgment based on the situation. Zell and Selphie, you are to support Squall and give your all to carry out the faction's plans." He nodded again, then sighed. "Best of luck on your first mission."

All three of them saluted, then they turned and began out of Garden. Squall released a somewhat shaky sigh, pulling his jacket closer around him at the chill that suddenly enveloped him—though he couldn't be sure if it was his own nerves or more of Shiva's unusual antics. Zell and Selphie followed after him obediently.

It was such an odd feeling as they set out on their own. For the first time there were no instructors looking after them, no other members of SeeD leading them or directing their actions. From this moment on until they returned to Garden when the mission was completed, Squall was on his own. Not only that, but in charge of two other people, responsible for their actions and well-being. It was a heady—and scary—feeling that Squall wasn't at all sure he relished.

Sure, out of the three of them, he was probably best suited for squad leader, but Squall prayed fervently that Cid wasn't trying to groom him into a position of leadership. He wanted no part of that kind of responsibility.

An hour later they entered the town of Balamb. Zell stopped off real quick to say good-bye to his mother—as they weren't sure when they'd be back next. Selphie went to go say her good-byes too, and Ma Dincht assured them all that they were welcome back any time, even just to say hi. Squall remained near the door, uncomfortable, and finally led the way through the streets toward the Train Station. He stopped off at the weapons upgrade shop, but the customization and the items needed to convert the Revolver into a Shear Trigger cost too much right now. Squall promised himself that he'd get it done with one of his first SeeD paychecks, then led the way for the train station.

The conductor stood just outside, waving his arm. "The train to Timber is here. Please purchase a ticket." Squall moved forward and bought a ticket for 3 passengers for 3000 gil, taking almost all of the money he had on him. "Please go inside right away," the conductor admonished him afterward. "The train to Timber will be leaving shortly."

They shuffled inside with the other passengers, and began boarding the large blue train. Selphie hopped out of line at one point, grabbing up an old magazine before she trotted back to them. "Look! An old copy of Timber Maniacs!" Squall just rolled his eyes, keeping his gaze forward. They finally got to board, going to the rear of the train rather than the main passenger section, as SeeD had their own private car on all the trains that ran throughout Gaia.

Selphie hopped over to the window opposite the door. Zell came to stop in the center of the room while Squall remained standing by the door. Selphie leaned up to look outside, practically bouncing in place. "This train is so awesome!"

"A transcontinental railroad, baby!" Zell pronounced proudly. "It even runs through an underwater tunnel to get to Timber." The blonde turned to him, brows quirking. "Pretty cool, huh?"

Squall just rolled his eyes, turning to stare out of the window on the door. "Sure is," he muttered dryly. Zell slumped.

"Guess you're not interested," he heaved. Then he straightened again. "By the way, Squall. You have to use the ticket to get inside."

Squall glanced at the door adjoining this outer car to the SeeD's private car. Red words drifted across the white ticker box above it; _Next stop . . . Timber . . ._

Why bother opening it? It only took about three hours to get from Balamb to Timber by train. It's not like they would need to sleep or anything. He glanced back at the others' expectant faces, then sighed again and rolled his eyes before pushing himself up off the wall and then striding over. He put the ticket stub into the appropriate slot, then punched in the appropriate security code. The console beeped, flashing a green light at him, then the display read; _ID Check . . . confirmed. Access Granted._

"Ok, we can go inside now," he announced, tone bored.

Selphie immediately pounced forward. "Woo, I'm gonna go check out what's inside!" She skipped past, patting him on the shoulder as she did. "Tee-hee," she giggled, "thanks Squall!"

Then she ran through the automatic doors, rushing down the plush hallway beyond. Zell stepped forward then. "Let's go check it out, Squall," he coaxed before stepping through himself. Squall hesitated only a moment before his own curiosity got the better of him and he stepped through.

The hallway beyond had a wall of windows, at which Selphie stood and stared out at the zooming landscape beyond. She swayed back and forth. "I love trains," she announced, then she began singing softly to herself—in a voice that was surprisingly very good. "Train, train, take us away," she sang, in an almost haunting lullaby type melody. "Take us away, far away, to the future we will go . . ."

"Yo, check this out," Zell pronounced, standing by the other doorway. It opened in front of him. "So this is SeeD's private cabin." He stepped inside and out of sight, but it wasn't long before Squall heard the martial-artist's loud exclamation. "_Whoa! Oh yeah! Awesome!" _

Selphie just continued to hum and sing to herself, unperturbed. Squall rolled his eyes heavenward—and though he was almost afraid to look—he sighed and stepped inside himself. He found Zell sitting on a plush white leather couch, bouncing up and down and giggling like a three year old.

"Hehe, this is great!"

He put a hand on his hip and gave him a bland stare. "I'm glad you're so excited." Zell stopped bouncing with a frown, but quickly brightened again and reached for something on the table near-by.

"They even have magazines here," he announced, flashing the latest copy of Pet Pals. Squall just shook his head with a wry chuckle, then walked over and sat down on the couch himself. Meanwhile Zell sat back and began flipping through his magazine, one ankle propped on the opposite knee. "This is pretty damn amazing," Zell continued. "It pays to be a member of SeeD." He flipped for a moment, then suddenly turned to him. "Squall, y'know anything about Timber?"

He shrugged. "Not too much." Zell grinned and set the magazine aside.

"Thought so. Well, let me fill you in," he began eagerly. "Timber used to be a country surrounded by deep forests. But eighteen years ago, Galbadia invaded. Timber fell quite easily to Galbadia. So now Timber is under Galbadian occupation. It's said there's a whole bunch of resistance factions, big and small."

Squall blinked as Zell fell suddenly silent. He frowned. "And?" he prompted, hoping for some information that might actually be useful. Zell sighed and sat back.

"Nope, that's it," he heaved. Squall snorted.

"Thank you, Mr. Know-It-All-Zell." His sarcasm was totally wasted as the blonde beamed a broad smile.

"Hey, no prob!"

Squall eyed him, then rolled his eyes again, but turned when the door suddenly opened and Selphie entered. She suddenly looked pale and her whole body seemed to droop with weariness. She rubbed at her eyes, swaying a little on her feet as she neared.

"I'm not . . . feeling well," she announced softly. Squall tensed, brow furrowed. He wondered if maybe her strenuous magic casting of yesterday was starting to catch up with her. He stood.

"You should get some rest if you're tired," he offered after a slight pause, unused to offering such comfort or advice. She barely reacted to his words, her eyes opening and closing several times, groggy, as if she were disoriented.

"I'm really sleepy," she mumbled then, beginning to sway more on her feet. Squall really started to become concerned then.

"You ok?" he demanded sternly. Zell got to his feet too, frowning with concern.

"Hey," he began, then suddenly started blinking like crazy, and shook his head slightly. "Huh? What the . . ." He blinked some more, then put a hand to his head. "Something's wrong with me to," he then announced, his voice becoming slightly slurred. Squall watched, stunned, as the energetic blonde flopped back onto the couch, and then Selphie stumbled forward to lay down next to him. "I feel . . . sleepy . . ." Zell murmured softly before his head fell back and then he seemed to pass out.

"What's going on?" Squall demanded aloud, growing frightened and confused. Then he winced when a sickeningly swimming sensation suddenly took over his brain. "Ugh?!" He stumbled a little, cradling his skull and hunching over. His whole body started to feel impossibly heavy, and he became incredibly sleepy. Too sleepy to stand. "What is this?" he whispered as he hit his knees to no one, and then he fell forward. The last thing he remembered was staring listlessly at the floor and thinking how pathetic it was to die on his very first mission before darkness overtook him.

* * *

Seifer swung Hyperion in a wide arc, trying to chase the uncooperative, bad-tempered, foul-smelling plant monster up the ramp and into the back of the cage mounted to the back of the truck bed. 

"Get up there, you little bastard," he snarled.

The Grat clicked and squeaked in protest, it's long tentacles swinging out and batting at him, trying to fend him off. Seifer merely grabbed a couple of them, wrapped them around his fist, lifted it up, hauled back and then physically slung it in the back of the truck. The Grat tumbled end over end and then struck the four others already inside, causing them all to fall down like a bunch of bowling pins. Angry and startled clicks and squeaks lit up the early morning air.

Had Seifer not been so pissed, he would've laughed at the sight. As it was he spun around with a foul glare, ignoring Alana's wince and Nida's snicker.

"O-only five more to go, sir," she offered tentatively.

Seifer's only response to that was to growl low, so she quickly hushed again, clearing her throat uncomfortably and turning to stare somewhere else. Nida sat behind the wheel of the truck, as his weapon of choice—a power bow—didn't lend itself well to corralling monsters. The shy librarian packed a bit of a surprise, a thin silver bar that was no more than a foot long at rest.

"What do you plan on doing with that," he'd sneered when he first seen it, "lecture them to death?" Little Lani had just fixed him with a raised brow, then twisted the base with a flick of her wrist. Instantly the rod shot out to nearly six feet in length, a wicked foot-long spear-head at the top. She'd put her hand on her hip and leaned against her retractable lance with the other, eyebrow still raised. He'd blinked, then nodded. "Alrighty then, point taken."

Four hours and a lot of sweat, dirt and scratches later, Seifer had officially run out of what little sense of humor he had left for the day. He set Hyperion down for a moment and then peeled his coat off, sighing heavily with the sweltering humid heat that was starting to weigh them down, even deep in the woods as they were. His t-shirt was soaked, practically plastered to his body. Seifer tossed his coat into the passenger-side window, then grabbed up his gunblade again. He used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away some of the sweat trickling down his face, then turned to Lani and Nida, who were both staring at him expectantly.

"I think we've cleaned out this section," he heaved irritably. "We'll have to head west, see what we can find. Nida, you stay put nice in cozy in the air-conditioned cab there and wait for us to call you on the CB," he snapped. Nida managed to smirk guiltily and motion an affirmative before rolling the windows back up and retreating back into that very same air-conditioning that Seifer had spoken of.

The Squad leader's eyes narrowed, but he turned away and began tromping off farther into the woods. Alana stumbled after him. She was a year younger than him at 17, and pretty enough he supposed—with a heart-shaped face, high pink cheeks and a pair of wide storm gray eyes. She was on the curvy and full-figured side despite her rigorous SeeD training, with breasts that strained against the front of her light blue t-shirt—the words Talk Nerdy To Me written across the front and now just as soaked with sweat as his own was—and a pair of hips and ass that similarly filled out her snug pair of blue jeans as well. If she wasn't so soft-spoken and shy—and if he wasn't so pissed off at the moment—he might've taken advantage of being on a mission with such a good-looking female. As it was he barely cast her damp t-shirt a second glance, even when she stood heaving for breath at his side, leaning heavily on her silver spear.

"They've gone into hiding now," he murmured. "We're gonna have to sneak around to catch the little bastards. You go that way," he indicated the left fork, "and I'll take this direction. Radio in if you spot any likely activity."

Alana saluted half-heartedly, took an especially big gulp of air, then began moving down the path he'd indicated she check.

Seifer began down his own path, his anger boiling with every step. He was a Hyne-damned gunblade specialist, one of _two _in the entire Balamb Garden. He'd had some of the best battle scores and exam time records ever recorded since Garden's inception. He had junctioned with one of the strongest GFs in the world, one of five who reportedly didn't need a human host to survive. Yet here he was, Rank 1 and tromping around the Hyne-damned woods chasing _Grats._ Seifer stalked through the woods, not for the first time this morning second-guessing his decision to become a SeeD in the first place.

Taking such piss-poor, pointless orders never had been his thing. Maybe being a member of this "elite mercenary force" wasn't really what he was cut out to do. But then, if not this, what else? Fighting was what he was good at, all he was good at. What else would he do with his time? Fish? He snorted at the thought.

No, he was a SeeD now, come hell or high water. And he was going to stay a SeeD too, he decided furiously. No matter how many shit jobs and ridiculous missions Xu sent him on to try and break him, he'd smile sweetly with every one. He'd play their game, he'd nod and say yes sir and yes ma'am, and when he got his Rank A license he'd shove it all in their pretentious faces.

By the time they'd gathered up all the Grats required to replenish the monster's lair, it was going on one in the afternoon. Seifer was sweaty and dirty and in the foulest mood imaginable as he oversaw the Grats' unloading. He started heading off for the dorms, but Alana called out to him.

"Uh, sir, a-aren't you . . . supposed to . . . go report to the headmaster after every mission?"

Seifer sneered. "If he wants the intimate details of spending six hours chasing after a bunch of fucking plants, he's more screwed up than I thought. If you want to go give a report, be my guest," he threw over his shoulder. "_I'm _going to go get a shower."

Seifer left Lani blinking after him, unsure of what she should do. He entered his room and went straight for the bathroom, jumping under the cool spray with a gusty sigh. After a moment he washed the sweat and grime from his skin. When he was through he splashed some Antidote on the worst of his scratches, hissing with discomfort as the damn stuff burned like hell.

He dressed in a clean pair of jeans, then sat down to carefully clean and oil down his gunblade, cleaning it of the forest filth and Grat blood, polishing it down and then replacing it in it's case. Then Seifer threw on a fresh shirt and then headed down to get something to eat. After that he was going to come back up here and crash. Two hours of sleep were starting to catch up with him. He yawned heavily as he entered the cafeteria. He stepped in line and quickly grabbed himself something to eat, then turned for the tables. He smirked when he saw Raijin motioning at him toward the back. Seifer made his way over.

He and Fujin were sitting eating their lunch as well, with Mutt sitting attentively at Fujin's feet. As soon as the dog caught sight of him however it began barking up a storm, wagging his tail and wiggling his whole body with excitement as it danced and pranced around Seifer's feet. The blonde chuckled.

"Alright, alright, I see you Mutt," he murmured as he finally managed to fight his way to a seat. "Calm down!" he then ordered. Mutt fell to his haunches then, and heaved a doggy sigh if displeasure, but did as he'd ordered.

"DONE?" Fujin questioned, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, didn't 'spect to see you back so soon, ya know," Raijin followed. "That was kinda quick." Seifer scowled and then bit into his sandwich.

"Don't even get me started," he growled after he'd swallowed. "It was a bullshit mission, just leave it at that." Raijin and Fujin just sighed.

"That's totally messed up, ya know. Completely bogus." He propped his chin on his fist, balancing his elbow on the edge of the table. "Gave Squall his first mission this morning too, ya know. Bet they didn't give _him _a babysitting job, ya know." Seifer took another bite, his brow raising with curiosity.

"Oh really? Know anything about it?"

"Not much. Just where they're goin, ya know. Most missions are top secret until debriefing." Fujin nodded.

"Well where they goin'?" he demanded then. Fujin answered him.

"TIMBER."

Both didn't notice the way he froze in place at first. "Yeah, took the train outta Balamb this mornin', ya know?" Raijin pronounced blandly. "That spike-haired martial-arts kid and the other new transfer student you fought with yesterday went with him. Probably in Timber by now, ya know. Train only takes about three hours or so from Balamb station—."

"What?!" Seifer finally roared, interrupting a startled Raijin and garnering the attention of several students near-by. Mutt cowered at his feet. "They might end up fightin' the whole Galbadian force!" he continued to yell, incensed. "And all they dispatch are three rookie SeeDs?"

"H-how d'you know what's goin' on in Timber?" Raijin ventured, blinking. Fujin was scowling herself. Seifer just snarled under his breath, then shot to his feet and spun on his heel.

"I'm goin' to Timber."

"WHAT?!" Fujin demanded from behind him. He heard the sounds of her and Raijin quickly getting to their feet, but ignored them and started purposefully for the door.

"W-wait! Seifer!" Raijin cried afterward as they both hurried after him. "You can't just take off to Timber man, ya know?!" Seifer kept walking. Raijin made a noise of disgust. "If you leave Garden without orders, you'll be finished! Goin' AWOL is serious shit, ya know?"

Seifer ignored him, but had to stop when the larger teen suddenly grabbed him by the shoulder and physically spun him around. Seifer, scowling, made to wrench away but Raijin tightened his grip. His normally goofy face was deadly serious, dark eyes sharp.

"Seifer, please," he pleaded. "Come on, man, don't do this to yourself. You just graduated _yesterday_," Raijin continued to entreat. "You're already a Rank 1. You do this, and Cid won't have any other choice but to revoke your license completely." Seifer continued to glare, and Raijin let out an exasperated sigh. "Is that what you want, man? You want all those prejudiced bastards to win?"

Seifer finally managed to free his shoulder from his friend's grip. "I don't expect you to understand, but I _have _to go," he replied at that. Both Fujin and Raijin slumped. Fujin's eye was awash with sadness, while Raijin just hung his head. Seifer sighed. "Look, I don't expect you guys to come with me."

Fujin made a swiping motion with her arm. "IDIOT." Raijin scowled too.

"Yeah, then you're a dumbass, ya know? You think we'd follow these assholes over you?" Seifer felt something squeeze his chest at the wide grin Raijin suddenly gave. "We're a posse after all, ya know?" Seifer smiled back, but shook his head.

"I appreciate that, but it's probably best if you two stay here. Just . . . look after Mutt for me. I'll be in touch."

Raijin and Fujin hesitated a moment longer, then nodded to his wishes. Seifer clapped each one of them on the shoulder, offering them the best smile he could manage under the circumstances, then he turned and hurried for his room. Seifer tried to put out of his mind what he was probably sacrificing by doing this damned fool thing. Probably his entire life and career. All for a girl he wasn't even dating any more, had never loved in the first place. Unfortunately, that annoyingly large chunk of personal honor that had taken root in his chest the first day he'd slipped into his father's Dragoon coat wouldn't let him leave it alone. No matter the cost, no matter the consequences, he _had _to go to Timber. Rinoa and her Forest Owls were in trouble and he had to make sure that Pube Boy and his little dork squad didn't screw things up.

Seifer shook out the worn gray material and then slipped into his coat, shoving his SeeD Special kit inside one of the pockets before opening his gunblade case and pulling out Hyperion. He checked the chamber, stuffed a few extra rounds in his other pocket, then clipped the weapon to his belt. He took one last look around the room—perhaps saying good-bye—then he turned on his heel and left.

Promising himself that he'd never look back again.


	10. Chapter 9 : The Owls of Timber

**Chapter Nine**

_Owls of Timber_

Very slowly the dull roar in Squall's ears began to take on the property of words, which seemed impossibly loud at first but gradually faded into normalcy about the time he was able to discern them properly.

"_Next stop, Timber," _the PA droned cheerily. "_Timber . . ." _

Squall lifted up, shaking his head to free it of the grogginess, then sat up on his knees. Apparently he was the last one to come to, as Zell was already wide awake seated on the couch and Selphie stood near-by, swaying with nervous energy. Squall carefully got to his feet.

"Were we . . . all asleep?" he questioned after a moment, shaking his head again, feeling though as if it had been stuffed with cotton. The other two nodded. Zell suddenly began glancing worriedly around the room.

"Maybe someone released some sleeping gas? There's lots of people who resent SeeD."

Squall glanced up himself, swallowing. _Maybe, _he thought to himself, not wanting to alarm the other two. _Better be careful. _

"Am I missing anything?" Selphie questioned then, beginning to pat herself down. "Anyone hurt?"

Squall and Zell both checked themselves over. Amazingly, nothing seemed missing or out of place—and other than a throbbing headache—he seemed perfectly healthy.

"I don't think so," he murmured at last. The other two visibly relaxed.

"What a relief!" Selphie exclaimed, then sighed and went to sit on the couch. "Everything's cool with me." Then she suddenly giggled. "Hee! I had such a nice dream!"

Squall frowned. At her words, he was forced to remember the bizarre events he'd seen unfold in his own subconscious. _I had a dream too, _he thought bitterly, thinking of the Galbadian soldier he'd been, called Laguna, with the long dark hair and the eerily familiar steel-blue eyes. _It wasn't nice though. I dreamt I was a moron._

A voice rang out over the PA system again. "_We will be arriving in Timber shortly. For those getting off, please make sure you have all your belongings."_

As the three of them had only what they were wearing, none of them moved. Selphie sighed dreamily. "But seriously," she gushed, continuing her former train of thought, "Sir Laguna was soooooo cool!"

Squall and Zell both whirled to her, eyes and mouths wide.

"Hey!" the blonde exclaimed. "There was a Laguna in my dream too! He's a Galbadian soldier, right?!"

"Laguna, Kiros and Ward . . . ," Squall whispered, rattling off the names of the three men who had danced through his dreams. Selphie gaped and Zell shook his head in disbelief.

"Huh?" he blurted, then motioned. "That's it!" Squall attempted to play dumb.

"That's what?"

Selphie got to her feet suddenly, shaking her head and motioning negatively with her hands. "There's no way we can understand this," she pronounced. "Let's just concentrate on our first mission!"

Squall glanced at her and met her steady green stare for a moment, then inwardly sighed. _I guess you're right, _he conceded silently, then nodded. "We'll put this incident on hold," he pronounced. "I'll report it to the headmaster once we get back to Garden."

Zell and Selphie were pleased with that plan and nodded their agreement. Zell got to his feet, shaking himself out as if removing the last of the grogginess out of his body.

"We should be there soon, eh?" he called, then began for the door. "Here we go. Psyche yourself up, baby!" he murmured to himself as he tossed his head slightly—his neck popping audibly and causing both Squall and Selphie to wince—before he exited the SeeD private car completely.

Selphie lifted her legs behind her one by one, grabbing her ankle and stretching her hamstring and thigh muscles, then she sighed and started for the door herself. "Whew," she heaved. "Still sleepy."

Squall said nothing as he followed after them.

The train pulled to a stop at the Timber Station, and the three of them exited out onto an outdoor docking area. They stood among the milling passengers moving to and fro, boarding and getting off. Their SeeD training kicked in and the three of them did their best to blend in with the crowd, going over to peruse a small little stand of tourist guides.

All of a sudden Squall tensed as a somewhat chubby teen around his age approached him. He wore a pair of dark green cargo pants, a white t-shirt and a yellow hunter's vest on over it, a blue skullcap pulled low over his head, hiding his hair. He sidled near and then gave an overly dramatic sigh.

"Oh," he called a little too loudly, "the forests of Timber sure have changed!" Squall's brow furrowed, setting the magazine he'd picked up back on the stand.

"But the owls are still around," he replied smoothly. The teen nodded vigorously, pale face breaking into a grin.

"Welcome to Timber, sir. Come with me, sir." He turned and then began hurrying off. Squall just scowled, glancing at Selphie and Zell, who both shrugged. Why in the hell have a secret password if you were going to blow your cover immediately afterward? Beginning to get a bad feeling about all this, Squall just sighed and then started after the resistance member.

The teen lead them to another train docking area, this one a little more run-down than the other main one.

"Please, this way sir!" he called as he mounted the steps. Squall and the others followed. As they did so a large locomotive suddenly pulled up on the tracks. It was decorated in various graffiti proclaiming Timber's independence and their hatred for Galbadia, skulls and other such angry decorations marring it's faded yellow paint job. Behind him, Zell snorted and then openly snickered. Squall felt like joining him.

So much for going incognito.

The teen quickly entered an automatic doorway. Squall and the other two followed when he gestured for them to do so. The door closed behind them and then the locomotive immediately took off again afterward.

Another teen met them inside, this one wearing a dark blue turtleneck pullover, black shorts, yellow sneakers and spiky short-cut black hair. He stepped up in front of Squall and looked him up and down, seemingly sizing him up in a glance. Squall felt his expression harden.

"So," he murmured after a moment. "You guys are SeeDs?"

Squall nodded. "I'm the squad leader, Squall," he announced sternly. He tilted his head first to his right, then to his left, indicating the other two members of his squad standing on either side of him. "This is Zell, and Selphie."

The spike-haired one gave him a tight smile and extended his hand. "Nice to meet ya," he proclaimed. "I'm called Zone, the leader of the Forest Owls." Squall just stared at him, not making any move to shake hands. He blinked, uncertain, then turned to a grinning Selphie and shook her hand instead when she eagerly offered. Zell quickly wiped his hand down his pants leg, but when Zone moved to turn to him Squall sighed loudly with impatience.

"So let's get on with it," he growled. "What do we do?"

Zone waved his hands. "Just take it easy," he protested, then did his best to avoid Squall's blackening stare by turning around to his friend, the one who had lead them here. "Here, let me introduce you."

Zell heaved a heavy sigh, then sat down on the steps that led to a hall that went down the rest of the train. Selphie turned around and stared out the window of the door. Squall put his hand on his hip, silently counting to fifty.

"Looks like you already met Watts," Zone murmured. The other one grinned and waved. Zone sighed. "I guess it's just our princess then."

Watts blanched, eyes widening. "It's the princess' nap time, sir." Zone's face paled as well.

"Ah, man," he whined, crouching a little and cradling his stomach for some reason. Then he suddenly straightened and turned back to them. "Hey Squall, sorry, but can you go get the princess? She's in the last room up those stairs. Some of our guys are in the room on the way. Ask 'em if you get lost."

Selphie turned from the window at that, eyes wide, while Zell made a noise half of disgust, half of disbelief. Squall had to take a deep breath before he responded.

"Were we hired to run errands?" he questioned then, slowly, his tone gravely. Zone's eyes widened in alarm. "Well?" Squall barked when he didn't get an answer. Zone backed up fearfully, raising his hands in supplication.

"A-are you angry?" he questioned fearfully. Selphie rolled her eyes and turned back to the window. Squall put a hand to his forehead, trying to remember what it was like to feel calm and un-annoyed.

_We're not gophers, _he inwardly sneered, _we're SeeD . . . special forces. _He sighed heavily, dropping his arm, then fixed Zone with a dark look. "This is the last time for this kind of thing," he warned.

The other teen retreated into a corner, crouching down and grabbing his stomach with a groan. Squall's eyebrow raised, then he just shook his head and tromped up the stairs, stepping over Zell along the way. He bypassed the other room with three other men completely, heading for the last door to get the damned 'princess.'

He entered and then hesitated, shocked for a moment by the abundance of pink. Everything in here was pink, from the walls to the carpet to the heavily cushioned futon near the back corner. He spotted a girl dressed in blue curled upon it in a fetal position, apparently sleeping. Her back was to him, but he felt a niggle of suspicion stir to life as he stared at the wealth of inky hair spilling out behind her on the pink cushions.

Just then the train suddenly pulled to a stop, the brakes applying with a loud screech. The noise disturbed the 'princess,' who suddenly released a husky moan—the sound doing things to Squall's anatomy he didn't even want to try and analyze—before she slowly turned onto her back and stretched upward and arched off the bed—again, with the anatomy changes—then she loosened and finally sat up. Squall's whole frame locked up in astonishment as he stared at her familiar face.

Ah hell . . . .

It was the girl from the party last night. Hyne was _really _obnoxious today.

Instead of the white cocktail dress, she was wearing a tiny black camisole now and a matching pair of skin-tight shorts underneath a blue button-up mini skirt and an ankle-length sleeveless overcoat that tied over her breasts. Her forearms were encased by matching cuffs that extended from wrist to elbow, and her left arm had a black ribbon tied around her bicep. Her feet—currently encased in thick black socks—slowly swung around to the edge of the bed as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, hair falling down around her face and shoulders in an adorable disarray.

Squall did his best to swallow the huge lump in his throat, his mind numb with disbelief and even a tiny bit of fear and apprehension. He'd sworn last night that he'd never have anything to do with this girl again, yet here he was, bound by contract to support a resistance group that she was apparently an integral member of. What in the hell were the odds?!

The girl suddenly noticed his presence in the doorway and stiffened, eyes widening. Then she frowned as recognition began to dawn. She pointed at him.

"Hey," she murmured, "you're . . !" Her expression slowly began to bleed into one of abject excitement and joy. "You know, from the party . . ," she continued, as they had never exchanged names before or after that damned dance. Squall just nodded, and she clasped her hands in front of her. "So . . . does that mean . . . You're a SeeD?"

He nodded again. None of his inner turmoil showed on his face. Outwardly he was completely calm and his voice was flat and steady as he replied, "I'm Squall, the squad leader. There's two others with me."

He was completely thrown off when the female suddenly launched herself off the bed at him with a high-pitched squeal of delight. "_Yes! SeeD is here!"_

She threw her arms around his neck, and only his SeeD training kept the both of them from collapsing back onto the floor. As it was he spun her around to decrease her momentum, then quickly disengaged himself, stepping back.

"Take it easy," he snapped, flustered and annoyed. The girl cleared her throat, cheeks coloring, apparently having realized her misstep.

"Sorry," she murmured somewhat sheepishly, but she soon brightened again. "It's just that, I'm so happy. I've been sending requests to Garden forever, but nothing. I'm so glad I spoke to Cid directly!"

Squall felt himself tense, and was extremely put off at the sensation of hope that began to flicker to life in his chest. He'd thought she'd left him on the dance floor to go meet another guy for personal reasons.

"Oh," he found himself murmuring, blatantly fishing for information, "so you were looking for the headmaster at the party?"

She shook her head however. "You know Seifer?"

And just like that, the kernel of hope in his chest died a swift, harsh death. Well, it was just as well. Squall felt his insides harden, his expression wiping blank. ". . . yeah," he replied tonelessly.

She gave him a curious stare for a moment at the sudden change in his attitude, but shrugged it off. "Well, he's the one that introduced me to Cid." She sighed, smiling. "Cid is such a nice man. I really didn't think SeeD would come out to help a measly little group like us. But after explaining our situation to him, Cid gave the go ahead right away!" She laughed suddenly, the sound exuding happiness as she clapped her hands in excitement. "Now that you guys are here, we'll be able to carry out all kinds of plans!"

She went to the futon and sat down to put on the pair of feminine black sneakers sitting near-by, then stood and went to the vanity mirror to brush her hair. She noticed him still standing there and looked at him in the reflection, her brow raising.

"Yes?"

Squall shook himself—annoyed that he'd stayed and watched her like a dumbass—cleared his throat then motioned to the door. "I'm goin' back to the others."

She set down her brush and turned, smiling. "Ok, let's go!" she chirruped. That wasn't exactly his plan—his plan had been more along the lines of getting away from the disturbing female—but he sighed and nodded. They started for the door, but all of a sudden she stopped in her tracks. "Um, Squall," she suddenly questioned. He cocked an eyebrow and she twisted the edges of her blue overcoat around her hands. "Is _he _here?"

_He? _he wondered. She bit her lip.

"Seifer," she clarified at his confused stare. Squall felt his heart harden just a little more.

"No," he replied at length. "He's not."

"Oh."

A shadow had fallen across her eyes, one that was probably borne of disappointment, and Squall struggled with why the thought of that would piss him off so much and why he should give a damn whether she wanted to see Almasy or not. She heaved a sigh, then stepped through the doorway. Before Squall could even think about following her, she suddenly spun around and re-entered, expression sheepish.

"Oh yeah," she exclaimed, "my name's Rinoa." She reached forward and grabbed his hand before he could react and shook it vigorously. "Very pleased to meet you, Squall." He removed his hand from hers as soon as possible, resisting the urge to rub his thumb across the pads of his fingers and try and capture a bit of that warmth and softness into his own skin. She suddenly smirked mischievously. "SeeD members dance quite well, don't they?"

Squall turned away slightly, his mask firmly in place. The last thing he needed was for her to believe that dance had been anything but professional. "Approach your target inconspicuously at a party," he quoted tonelessly. "There may be missions requiring this sort of subterfuge. It's expected of SeeD to learn various skills."

"Oh," she murmured, eyebrows lifting. "So it's work related." Then she sighed, tone saddened. "That's too bad."

Squall reminded himself sternly that that was for the best.

All of a sudden a large dark brown and cream colored dog suddenly entered the room. It was tail-less and muscular in build, and the intelligent way it seemed to size him up as well as it's tense posture told Squall it was probably a working dog of some sort. Probably one of those expensive, highly trained protection and guard dogs out of Deling City. Inwardly he wondered how this girl had come across one.

She immediately crouched and began scratching and petting the dog's face and neck, making sickeningly sweet goo-goo noises. The otherwise intimidating beast turned to putty in her hands, tongue lolling out and letting out a low whine of pleasure. Rinoa turned to give him a smile over her shoulder.

"Here, let me introduce you. This is my partner, Angelo." She stood up again and turned back to him. "Angelo is really smart! He can do all sorts of things. Here, let me show you." She took a few steps away and then turned back to Angelo. The dog stayed where he was and watched her face attentively. "_Insideo," _she suddenly called, and the dog immediately sat down. "_Sustuli," _she called then, and Angelo lifted up on his hind haunches, front paws in the air. "_Effo." _The dog let out two sharp barks. "_Consurgo pariter accedo," _she then said, and the dog fell back to all fours and then moved to her side, spinning around until he took up position at her side with his ears pricked forward, ready for anything.

"Smart huh?" she then proclaimed, turning back to him with a grin. Squall kept silent, though inwardly he was intrigued. A guard dog trained in ancient Centrani? He was now more than certain that this beast could do a helluva lot more impressive tricks than sitting and barking on command, more along the lines of ripping an enemy's throat out or willingly taking a bullet to protect it's charge. And something told him that this _Rinoa_ was much more than a scrappy resistance member from Timber. Just what, exactly, was still a mystery.

Rinoa crouched back to her dog and ruffled his ears again. "I have some important work to do now," she murmured. "Be good, Angelo." The dog let out another whimper, as if answering her, and she smiled. Then with one last pat she straightened. "Ok, I'll meet you there," she announced without turning back before she strode briskly from the room.

Both Squall and Angelo watched her leave. Human teen turned to the dog when it let out another whimper, then it moped over to the corner of the bed and then plopped down, releasing a heavy sigh before it laid it's head down on it's feet.

Squall could sympathize.

He finally just followed after her. He caught up just as she reached the steps. The others were where he'd left them a moment ago. "This is Zell," he told her, pointing to the blonde who gave her an appreciative grin and a wave. Then Squall pointed to the chipper female still standing near the window, who was suddenly giving him an uncomfortably discerning stare, eyebrow quirked. "And Selphie."

"Hi everyone!" Rinoa called cheerfully. She carefully stepped over a still-prone Zell and descended the stairs, then turned to a doorway. "This way," she called, then entered.

Zone and Watts trotted after her obediently. Selphie and then Zell were right behind them. Squall hesitated a moment, bracing himself for anything, before he too stepped through the doorway.

* * *

Seifer had just barely made it to the station before the last train to Timber was set to disembark. He'd been forced to sell off a few of his supplies to afford a ticket, but sighed heavily as he stepped onto the rear car. He crouched inside, setting Hyperion down before he pulled out his leather case and went over the items he had left. Just 3 Potions and a Phoenix Down. He'd have to hope he didn't get hit with any bad status effects before he had a chance to replenish his supplies. 

"_What in the name of _all _that is holy in this world do you call yourself _doing _Almasy!?"_

Seifer tensed and spun in his crouch long before the sentence was through, fist snatching up Hyperion and raising it up in less than a blink, training the barrel on the owner of the voice out of pure knee-jerk reaction instinct. The tall, furious blonde female who had appeared in the entrance didn't even flinch.

Quistis had her hands on her hips, her blonde hair slightly disheveled, dressed in the same peach outfit he'd seen her in last night. Seifer loosened again, releasing a heavy sigh and a curse.

"Hyne-dammit, Trepe," he snapped, lowering Hyperion again. "What in the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh no, _Almasy," _she sneered back, taking a step farther onto the train. "I do believe I asked _you _first! Just what do you call yourself doing here?!"

He scowled. "It's none of your business what I'm doing," he growled. She made a noise of annoyance—somewhere between a scream and a growl—and Seifer felt his eyebrow quirk. He'd never seen Quistis this openly pissed off before. Her pale cheeks were turning a fiery pink with her heightened emotion, her blue eyes sparkling wildly.

And all of a sudden Seifer had the uncomfortable realization that he'd been perhaps a little too harsh in his assessment of Trepe's looks previously. Sure, her face was on the narrow and angular side, but those lips of hers were very full and soft . . . utterly kissable. And she might have been on the tall side but most of that height of hers was in her very long legs—which any red blooded man couldn't help but picture wrapped around his waist or slung up over his shoulders. Her curves might have been subtle but they were _definitely_ there, as the clingy material of her peach outfit revealed all too clearly. Especially as those small but rounded breasts of hers heaved against the front of her top with her completely lost temper.

Hyne _damn, _but Quistis Trepe in a temper-tantrum was hot as hell.

Seifer inwardly cursed rather viciously as his traitorous body started reacting to the incredibly arousing sight, and placed the blame solely on the head of the Dragon currently chortling gleefully in his mind for having put the idea of Quistis in his head in the first place.

"None of my business?" she hissed at him furiously at last, answering his comment. Seifer sighed and stood to face her fully, suddenly glad for the long coat he wore. "_None of my business?!" _she repeated, her tone becoming a touch shrill. "How dare I?" Quistis spat then. "How could I even _dream _about showing a shred of concern for the fact that one of my students is throwing his entire career away like a complete and utter _moron!"_

The last was a loud screech that set Seifer's ears to ringing. He glared down at her. In doing so he unwillingly noticed for the first time that the top of her head would brush his chin, and it'd only be a short distance indeed to bend down and—. Seifer quit that train of thought before it could go any further, hissing another foul curse at the now openly laughing GF in his brain before centering all of his attention on his enraged former instructor.

"How in the hell did you even know I'd left?" he demanded, changing the subject. Quistis scoffed, and her narrow glare told him she wasn't going to be deterred that easily from her mission, but answered him anyway, tone snide.

"You declared your intentions in the middle of the cafeteria, in hearing distance of about fifty other students and SeeDs. It wasn't long before just about everyone in Garden knew your foolish intentions." Quistis crossed her arms, jaw firming. "Get off this train, Seifer. Before you ruin everything you've ever worked for."

"I know what I'm doing, Trepe," he proclaimed irritably, turning away. He gave her a glare over his shoulder at her snort of abject disbelief. "Look, you may not think I'm worth spit, but I have my own code, Hyne-dammit. One that has nothing to do with your fucking weak-ass Garden rules or SeeD regulations. One of my friends is in trouble, and I _am _going to go help her. If you or Cid can't accept or understand that, then that's your own damned business."

Quistis seemed to draw up even straighter until he began to fear she might snap her own back.

"First of all, you have no _idea_ about what I may or may not be thinking, so don't try and put words in my mouth," she growled.

"Oh, you mean like what you do with every other breath?" he shot back, sneering.

She actually started to _shake, _she was getting so worked up. Trepe was literally trembling with rage and—perversely—all Seifer could think about was backing her up, tearing her clothes off and fucking her fast and hard up against the wall of this Hyne-damned train. Hyne, he was _sick._ And _really_ horny, he decided distastefully, shifting the front of his now-entirely-too-snug jeans inconspicuously beneath his coat.

"Secondly," she cried louder, "don't you _dare_ try to make this sound like you're trying to be some noble knight in shining armor! You're just jealous and pissed off that Squall got a real mission and you got sent to go corral monsters." Seifer's scowl turned deadly then, any and all arousal he had been feeling disappearing like smoke on the summer breeze. He spun back to her, expression thunderous, but she continued heedlessly. "Hyne, when are you going to _grow up," _she hissed, "and stop devoting every waking moment of your life to outdoing Squall Leonhart!?"

"Oh-ho," he crowed bitterly. "Don't you _even _go there, you pretentious little bitch," he snarled. She gasped at his blatant insult, but Seifer towered over her, relentless. "Look to thine own ass first, instructor," he quipped bitterly then.

Apparently Quistis wasn't as stupid as she was currently trying to convince him. She backed off, crossing her arms in a clear sign of uncertainty and maybe even a bit of vulnerability.

"If you go AWOL now, you may not be allowed to ever come back," she announced then, her tone softer, almost sad.

Both of them tensed as the train suddenly released it's breaks with a loud screech, and then the machine began moving forward. Quistis turned to the door, eyes wide. When she turned back Seifer met her stare steadily, face blank.

"So be it." Then he smirked as her darkening glower revealed that Quistis had just realized she was now—whether she liked it or not—along for the ride. "Hope you like forests and anti-government resistance factions."


	11. Chapter 10 : The Train Job

**Chapter Ten**

_The Train Job_

"Just stand wherever you want," Zone called as they all entered and spread out in the small room. Most of the space was taken up by a large table, it's surface decorated in a model of the many train tracks that ran outside of Timber. Several model trains were already in place. Squall and the others took up positions in front of the three resistance members.

Zone gave them a goofy grin. "This is a full-scale operation," he announced. "Our resistance, 'The Forest Owls,' will be forever known in the pages of Timber's independence! Exciting, huh?" Rinoa and Watts eagerly seconded his opinion. The three SeeDs just stared at them, not saying anything, so Zone cleared his throat somewhat uncomfortably and then continued. "It all started when we got a hold of some top-secret info from Galbadia."

"I got the info, sir!" Watts suddenly cut in eagerly, grinning at Squall, who barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"There's a VIP from Galbadia coming to Timber."

"Super V-I-P!" Watts inserted again. Zone continued as if he hadn't spoken.

"The guy's name is Vinzer Deling," he spat. "Our archenemy and the President of Galbadia."

"Vinzer Deling is a scoundrel," Watts interrupted again, scowling. "He's a dictator, not a president. Not even popular in Galbadia, sir!"

"President Deling is taking a private train from the Galbadian capital," Rinoa supplied then. Zone nodded, then continued.

"Our plan is to—,"

"Blow it to smithereens with a rocket launcher?!" Selphie suddenly questioned eagerly, eyebrows quirking. The three Owls gaped, eyes widening.

"Ah . . . not quite," Zone finally managed, looking and sounding rather disturbed. Zell, near the back of the room, sighed loudly.

"So get to the point!" he insisted impatiently. "Just tell us what to do?"

Zone and Watts looked disconcerted, so Rinoa cleared her throat and stepped forward, motioning to the table. "Shall we begin?"

Everyone gathered around the table and stared down at the model.

"First, I'll go over the model," she announced, then pointed to one of the trains, the one with only two cars. "The yellow train on the top right is our base. We're riding in it right now. Right next to it is the dummy car. We made it look just like the president's car." She gestured to the other train, the one with four cars. "Their train has three cars. First, there's the locomotive followed by the 1st Escort. The red car is the president's car. Deling should be inside. The last car is the 2nd Escort. Once we get on this one, we begin the operation." She lifted her head to stare at each one of the SeeDs in turn. "Our ultimate goal is to seize the president in his car using our base. That means, we'll have to switch our dummy car with their president's car." When none of them said anything, she cleared her throat and then plowed ahead. "Ok, now I'm going to explain the procedures in seven steps."

She pushed the Owls' train forward until their 'dummy car' was alongside the '2nd Escort car.'

"We'll get on the roof of the 2nd Escort by jumping off the roof of our dummy car."

Watts inserted then with, "the 2nd Escort is the only one that is equipped with sensors, sir." Rinoa nodded.

"A high tech officer is on board," she agreed, then waved her hand. "I'll talk about the sensors later." She traced a finger across the top of the 2nd Escort, then across the ugly red car next. "We can move across the roof of the president's car without worrying too much."

"Deling hates the company of his guards and being surrounded by sensors," Zone announced, "and keeps them away from his car."

Rinoa motioned to the first track switch point in front the train cars. "We'll have to complete the uncoupling before the first switch point," she proclaimed. "If we don't . . ."

"_Boom!" _Selphie cried excitedly, causing the Owls to jerk in surprise. She grinned at their startled looks. "Game over, right?"

Rinoa blinked. ". . . yeah," she agreed after a moment, then cleared her throat and turned back to the model. "So we'll have to move fast. I'll explain the uncoupling process in a minute." She unhooked the president's car from the 1st Escort. "After the car is uncoupled we'll have the dummy car and our base move in." She pushed the Owl's train across the tracks and then lined them up. "At this point, our train and their train will be linked and moving together." Then as they approached the second switch point she unhooked the Owl's locomotive from the dummy car in front of it and the president's car from the 2nd Escort car. "This is the last uncoupling," Rinoa announced. "The process will be similar to the first one. If all goes well, we should be able to escape with the president's car," she continued, pushing the connected Owl's locomotive and the president's car off down another track at the 2nd switch point while the original train—now with the dummy car—continued straight. She sat back then with a sigh and a grim smile.

"After that, we'll return to our base and confront Deling. We have exactly five minutes to complete the seven procedures. If we fail, our train will collide with theirs at the switch point and it'll be all over. Don't forget that."

Zell blew out a low whistle. "Five minutes?" he murmured then, eyebrow cocked. "You sure that's enough?" Zone snorted.

"According to the simulation that we ran, it should only take three minutes to complete the operation." He smirked. "Piece of cake for SeeDs, right?"

Selphie grinned. "Of course!" she exclaimed confidently. "Too easy!" Rinoa chuckled.

"Ok," she called, "now let's talk about how to avoid the sensors on the 2nd Escort." She turned to her fellow Owl. "Go ahead, Watts," she encouraged.

The chubby teen cleared his throat, then began motioning to the car in question. "The guards have a sound sensor and a temperature sensor, sir. Any sound will trigger the sound sensor, so move across very quietly, sir. The blue guard is carrying this sensor. The temperature sensor will go off if you remain stationary, sir. The guard in red is carrying this one, sir. When a guard opens the blind, that means he's checking the sensor, so be careful! The range on these sensors is equal to the length of one window. So keep an eye on the window below, sir."

Zell's brow had wrinkled into confusion long before Watts was finished. Even Squall had trouble following all that, amongst all those 'sirs.'"

"So exactly how do you avoid 'em?" the blonde demanded. Watts blanched, then shrugged.

"Umm . . . basically, run or stop, depending on which guard is below you."

Rinoa sighed and took over again. "That's about it for the sensors. Next let's talk about how to uncouple the Escort cars."

"Question!" Selphie suddenly piped up, raising her hand. Rinoa glanced at her and the bouncy brunette continued. "How can you uncouple cars from a moving train?" Rinoa winced.

"Umm . . . we can't uncouple the cars directly," she admitted somewhat sheepishly.

Zone quickly continued. "Instead, we'll have to tamper with the control system that manages the uncoupling. If we temporarily disable the circuit for the connection, the car will uncouple automatically," he then announced proudly. "To disable it, we have to enter several codes."

"And we have the codes," Watts inserted again. "Rinoa has them, sir!" The girl in question nodded vigorously.

"I'll be in charge of relaying the codes to Squall." She turned to him and he fought the urge to turn away from her steady, eager stare. "Squall, you'll slide down the side of the train using a cable and enter the codes into the system. Now I need you to listen carefully. Each code is made up of numbers between 1 through 4 and each has 4 digits ; 2341 is an example. But the keypad won't have numbers. Instead it'll have four buttons; an x, a triangle, a circle and a square. For instance, if I relay the code 3124, you'll push square, circle, x and triangle," she explained. "You'll have to be quick and precise. You'll have about five seconds to enter each code. Otherwise the code will change and the past entries become invalid."

Inwardly Squall growled at the stupidity of setting up such a dumb security system—who ever heard about using shapes as a keypad, and why the hell couldn't she just tell him the corresponding shapes in the first place instead of confusing the issue with numbers?—but kept his mouth shut and just nodded. Rinoa heaved a relieved sigh, then sat back again.

"So, like we said, we have to enter all the codes to disable the connection. After we uncouple the cars, we'll wait for the others to operate the rail switch. Remember, we have only five minutes to do everything, so make sure that you're prepared." She blinked at their continued attentive stares and then cleared her throat. "Um . . . that's all."

The three SeeDs nodded and then straightened. Selphie hesitated however, scowling down at the trains. "By the way, the model's nice but the president's car looks kinda shabby." She glanced back up at the Owls, two of which were fighting smirks while the other—Rinoa—was slowly turning red in the face. "Why is that?"

Watts chuckled. "Yeah, Rinoa made it," he revealed, "that's why. We bought everything else at the gift store."

"Oh," Zell returned, wincing. "I thought some kid made it," he then proclaimed, half smirking, half wincing. "The paint job sucks too."

Squall felt his lips twitch. _Yeah, _he conceded inwardly, _it kind of does._

"Oh, shut up!" Rinoa burst out, hands on her hips. "I made it look like that on purpose," she insisted then, tone indignant. "It represents my hatred for Deling."

Zell snorted. "Hatred, eh?" He chuckled. "Yeah . . . right." Selphie made a face.

"It's one of the . . . ugliest things that I've ever seen in my life," she announced. "You must really hate him."

Squall was losing the battle as far as not cracking a smirk was concerned at his squad's relentlessness. Rinoa's face was a bright cherry red by now.

"Are you guys finished?!" she snapped, stomping her foot. "Enough about the model! Can we get on with it now?"

Zell and Selphie hung their heads, shamefaced though still fighting smirks and chuckles. Squall straightened with a sigh, face devoid of all emotion. Rinoa pinned her gaze on him.

"Do you understand?" she questioned.

"Yes," he responded with a nod. Rinoa pumped her fist, grinning.

"Let's decide on the party!"

Watts immediately fell back a few steps. "Gathering information is my specialty, sir!" he proclaimed, eyes wide, before running out of the room entirely. Zone fell into a crouch near-by, cradling his mid-section and groaning.

"My stomach!" he wheezed painfully.

Rinoa glared down at him, hands catching onto her hips with an annoyed huff. Just then the locomotive they were in suddenly released it's breaks and began rolling forward. Rinoa glanced up, then turned to Squall.

"We're moving again," she announced needlessly, then turned for the door. "I'll go take a look." She left, then in the next breath ran back in. "Talk to Watts when you're ready," she added as an after-thought apparently. "The sooner the better."

The three of them exchanged looks, then Squall shook his head and led the way out of the meeting room. They found Watts standing near the exit. He grinned.

"Have you seen the dummy of the president, sir?" he questioned eagerly. "If you haven't, please have a look-see! It's like a piece of art!" Squall just stared at him, not moving and his expression unchanging, so Watts' smile faded and he cleared his throat before straightening. "I know the kidnapping plan must be tough, but best of luck to you, sir." He glanced out the window to check their progress, then turned back, looking torn between nervousness and excitement. "Are you ready, sir?!"

"Yeah," Squall assured, tone bored.

A few moments later the three of them found themselves on top of the Owls' dummy car, hanging on for dear life as the train sped forward in excess of sixty to eighty miles an hour. Rinoa crouched on the roof as well, towards the front. She motioned to them. "Squall, over here!"

He crouched low and carefully moved forward, Zell and Selphie right behind him. They all crouched down near Rinoa. "We'll catch up with the 2nd Escort soon," she yelled over the rush of wind, indicating the other train in the distance, of which was closing fast. "Let's get ready. We should time our jumps well after we catch up to them to save some time. From now we have exactly," she glanced at her watch, "five minutes to complete the operation. Let's try to use every second."

In no time their train pulled up along side the other. Zell crossed first, then Selphie, then Rinoa. Squall was the last to cross over. By the time he had steadied himself the others had already crossed to the other side of the car. Rinoa motioned for him to move it. Squall hesitated, however, recalling from her spiel earlier that this was the car with the sensors. He could hear voices inside the car, however, and after a moment it became obvious that Galbadia's high-tech gadgets were on the fritz. Therefore he stood in a crouch and just moved across as quickly as possible.

"This is the president's car," Rinoa explained quickly, as if Squall had forgotten already. "After we get across, we'll proceed with the uncoupling."

The group made their way over the top of the president's car and then onto the back end of the 1st Escort. Zell and Selphie took up positions farther down while Squall and Rinoa remained toward the back.

"This is the 1st Escort," Rinoa called. "We're gonna uncouple this first. Like Watts said, there should be two guards on this car. Selphie and Zell, you guys keep an eye on the guards. Let us know early if you see them coming."

"Alright, I'll watch the blue guard!" Zell pronounced, leaning over the side just enough to peek into the windows below.

"I'll take red," Selphie seconded, doing the same.

"The red guard is closer," was Rinoa's sudden observation. "Squall, you might want to keep an eye on him, too." Squall nodded once to indicate he'd heard. She reached back behind her and then pulled out a cell phone, flipping open the top. "Ok, are you ready to enter the codes?" she questioned then. "You remember everything, right?"

Squall had to fight to keep from letting his annoyance show. "Yeah," he replied, tone abrupt. If she noticed, Rinoa didn't indicate that she had. Instead she began pressing buttons on her phone.

"We'll have to enter three codes to disable the circuit for this uncoupling," she proclaimed, then lifted her eyes from the phone's display and met his steady stare. "Ok Squall," she called. "Get the cable ready."

Squall removed the repelling contraption Zone had shoved into his hands before they'd left and quickly attached it to the roof of the train, then clipped the cable to one of his belts.

"The system to enter the code is down there," she yelled, pointing downward to the side of the door. "You can't miss it. Ok let's do it," she exclaimed after he'd nodded again, leaning back and preparing to drop off the side of a moving train. "We have four minutes left," she announced after checking her phone. "Good luck, Squall!"

Without another word or gesture Squall pushed himself off the roof of the train and swung down until his boots landed on the bottom ledge, catching himself. He tore open the small access panel and then motioned for Rinoa to get on with it. She called out the first two codes and he entered them with no problem. Zell suddenly yelled out that the blue guard was approaching, then Selphie echoed that about the red. Squall scowled and stayed put however, indicating impatiently for Rinoa to hurry up and give him the third code. She stuttered a little, flustered, but Squall entered the number flawlessly before hitting the retract button on the remote in his hands and shooting back up the side of the train an instant before the red guard passed by the door window.

Squall then followed Rinoa back across the president's car to the 2nd Escort. He held on, as did she, and watched—breath held—as the Owl's locomotive and dummy train squeezed in onto their track at the switch point, the locomotive latching onto the president's car and the dummy car automatically hitching to the 1st Escort. Rinoa motioned to the doorway below.

"Ok, we're back at the 2nd Escort. After this, we're home free. Remember there are two guards on this car too. Zell and Selphie are up ahead working on uncoupling our train from theirs. So you're on your own this time." She gave him a nervous smile. "Let's get this over with."

Squall watched the activity of the two guards below for a moment, then went ahead and repelled down the side of the train. He put in two of the codes, then lifted back up just in time to avoid a patrol. "Three minutes, forty seconds," Rinoa called. Squall nodded grimly without looking, watching the guards. As soon as they turned their backs he dropped back down again and then swiftly inputted the last three codes.

Rinoa lead the way across the detaching cars to the Owl's locomotive, Zell and Selphie meeting them half way as it detached from the dummy car and then sped off down the second switch point with the president's car in tow. The other train moved on down the original track toward town, oblivious.

The four of them re-entered the engine and met up with Zone and Watts, who were waiting in the first hall. Zone grinned. "Finally," he breathed. "We've waited so long for this encounter with Vinzer."

Watts was grinning from ear to ear. "Was that perfect sir?!" he questioned, "and under three minutes as well! Amazing, sir! You're the best, sir!"

Squall just sighed while Zell and Selphie preened under the praise. Rinoa turned to the others.

"Well then . . ."

Watts blanched. "Leave the intelligence up to me, sir!" he cried, the turned on his heel and took off toward the back of the car. Zone fell into a crouch in the corner, clutching his stomach. Rinoa huffed angrily, hands on her hips. Then she turned to the SeeDs.

"You three! Let me know when you're ready to go! As soon as you're ready, I'll begin serious negotiations with the president!"

Squall bit back a groan, rubbing at his temple with a wince. '_Serious negotiations?' Better make sure my GF's equipped. _

Squall glanced at the others, who gave him nods of readiness, before he turned back to Rinoa and motioned that she get on with it. She took a deep, fortifying breath, then opened the door that would lead to the president's car and stepped inside. Squall, Zell and Selphie were right behind her. Selphie swung one of the ends of her nunchaku, bored, and Squall kept a hand on the handle of his gunblade, just in case. They entered the lushly furnished passenger car however, and the only person inside was the supposed President Deling, seated with his back to them.

Squall and the other two hung back while Rinoa approached Deling. "President Deling!" she called out, striving to make her voice sound strong and intimidating. "As long as you . . . don't resist, you won't get hurt," she announced. Squall rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, biting back a sigh. This was pathetic . . .

"And what if I do resist . . ." the president suddenly questioned, oddly enough, causing Squall to turn his gaze back forward, frowning in confusion and burgeoning suspicion. "What would you do?" he continued to question, turning to stare at Rinoa. "Young lady?"

Rinoa gasped, face paling, and took a hesitant step backward.

"What's wrong?" Squall demanded, his hand taking a firmer hold on his gunblade.

"Boo-hoo," the 'president' suddenly cooed, "too bad." Then he got to his feet and turned. It was obviously not the president. Whatever it was, Squall wasn't even sure it was human. It's face seemed . . . distorted somehow. As if someone had smeared a bunch of putty on it and it was beginning to melt off. It was a disturbing image, to be certain. "I'm not the president," the thing announced needlessly. "I'm what they call . . . a body double. All these rumors about the many resistance groups in Timber . . . You pass along a little false information and they fall for it." It sneered at them, the image truly grotesque. "How pathetic. Seems like there are only amateurs around here."

Rinoa gasped, eyes wide. "Ama . . . teurs?!" she breathed, half-way between offended and frightened.

The body double suddenly hunched over and lurched a step forward. Squall tensed, fingers flexing around his gunblade. Inwardly he cursed. Rinoa was standing too close to the thing, within lunging distance, and he didn't have any clear shot with her so near.

"Ahh," the thing groaned. "My butt hurts from all this sitting . . . Young . . . LADY . . ." he proclaimed, the voice beginning to switch octaves like crazy, going from normal to deep and guttural—inhuman—with every other word. "So what did you have in stORE for me had I resiSTED?" it demanded, turning on Rinoa, who backed a couple of steps away, eyes wide and face pale. "Why doN'T you teLL mE."

The creature suddenly made a swipe at Rinoa, who let out a shriek and then fell back on her rear, having tripped. Squall jerked his gunblade out and fired a warning shot then, cutting off the thing from getting any closer to her. It whirled. Zell had already fell into a fighting crouch, fists raised. Selphie brandished her nunchaku, expression stern.

"QuiTE aMUsing thouGH," it growled, lurching a few steps forward, doing as Squall had hoped and focusing on them instead of a defenseless Rinoa. "For beINg such amAtEurs . . .!! HoW daRe YOU InSUlt tHe presIDent!!!"

At that the thing launched itself with surprising speed. Zell raised his arms to defend himself, but cried out as the thing latched onto his arm and then bit him. Blood spurted free from the wound, gushing between the slavering creature's lips before a pained Zell recovered. Grimacing, the blonde wrenched the arm the creature had a hold of around, tearing a small chunk out of his forearm but catching the thing in the temple with his elbow on the way, then he smashed his opposite fist directly into the thing's face before finishing it off with a bone-crunching uppercut with his wounded arm again.

The body double stumbled back under the barrage, snarling, blood now staining it's face and the front of it's expensive navy blue suit. Zell fell back a couple of steps, cradling his now freely bleeding forearm. Selphie tossed him a Potion, which he quickly administered with another pained growl while Squall kept the creature busy avoiding a few slashes of his gunblade.

He finally caught the thing in the forehead with a direct hit, and the body flopped to the ground. Squall started to loosen, thinking it over, but gaped when the whole body suddenly started to melt.

"What the . . ." he murmured, stunned. The human façade disappeared, and in it's place rose a huge pale-skinned monster of grotesque, asymmetrical proportions, it's skull-like head complete with razor-sharp teeth protruding from it's gaping maw. Rinoa just stared, eyes wide, from where she'd retreated to the far end of the car.

Selphie stepped forward.

"It's undead," she announced. "I heard about a trick you could use when fighting undead, back in Trabia." She glanced at Squall. "Permission to try something crazy, sir," she asked.

She and Squall were first to break apart, dodging the creature as it made a swipe at them with it's massive right claw appendage. It snarled in frustration.

"Do whatever the hell you think will work!" Squall snapped, darting in to catch the thing in the midsection, firing his gunblade. Unfortunately—since undead weren't exactly in desperate need of their anatomy—it didn't have a whole lot of effect.

"Ok!" Selphie crowed. "Zell, if you've got holy magic or fire magic," she called, "now's the time to unleash it!"

She followed that up by raising her nunchaku and calling a cure spell . . . on the monster. Amazingly the thing groaned and hissed in pain, and Squall watched in stunned dumbfoundation as parts of it's flesh began to bubble and ooze as if it had been struck by acid.

Zell hesitated, then put his uninjured hand to his forehead before holding it out in front of him, palm raised.

Squall jerked as a very familiar roar lit up the train car. He knew his mouth had to be hanging open as none other than the bad-tempered, foul-mouthed GF Ifrit suddenly appeared. It unleashed with a massive fireball attack that left nothing but cinders of the undead monster—as well as destroying a great deal of the interior of the car they were in.

Selphie put away her nunchaku, then went over to examine Zell's wound, which he allowed with a pained hiss. The flesh around the teeth marks were starting to turn a greenish purple, which wasn't a good sign. No doubt he'd been poisoned. She administered an Antidote, to which he yelped.

"Oh don't be such a big baby," she snapped, and Zell gave her a wounded glare in return. Squall just stared at him, scowling.

"You're junctioned with _Ifrit?" _he demanded after a moment. Zell jerked at the sound of his voice, then gave him a sheepish smile, his free hand going back behind his head.

"Ah . . . y-yup." He suddenly grit his teeth against the pain when Selphie continued with her first aid, hitting him with a cure spell. The now healthy red teeth marks slowly began to knit closed before their eyes. "I . . . uh . . . don't tell many people," Zell admitted, "just for this reason and the reaction you're gettin'. A lot of people hold a mean grudge because of that damned SeeD qualifying test," he grumbled then.


	12. Chapter 11 : Knight or Knave

_**Author's Note - **To date, Second Sorceress War is the longest fic I've worked on or have posted. Yet it's also the one with the least amount of reader feedback. While generating an average of about a hundred hits a day, I've only about 5 reviews and 4 alerts. I'm not fishing for reviews or praise, but I do like to know that my efforts are appreciated and that readers are enjoying my work. Makes me feel like my writing has a purpose. So if you are enjoying Second Sorceress War, drop me a line and let me know. I appreciate it. --Lynnwood_

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

_Knight or Knave_

Quistis flopped back onto the large couch in the SeeD private car with a loud sigh. She lay back, hands covering her face with a groan. What a disaster. The Garden Faculty were right, she _was _a terrible instructor. Two of Garden's most promising up-and-coming SeeDs were complete mental cases. One was as emotionally unavailable as a rock, and the other was so damned arrogant and egotistical it was a wonder he didn't smother himself.

Quistis had hurried out after Seifer as soon as she'd caught wind of his intentions of going AWOL, filled with the misplaced notion that she was going to right some of the wrong she had done by failing him as an instructor and save him from his own idiocy. Unfortunately her temper had reared it's ugly head, and she'd ruined whatever small chance she might have had of convincing him to stay by insulting him. And like a wounded animal, Seifer had turned on her and lashed out the only way he knew how. Even now, a half hour later, Quistis felt her chest constrict with shame and guilt and she groaned miserably behind the barrier of her hands.

Hyne, had her pathetic desire for Squall really taken up so much of her time, had she really neglected others so much in favor of him? Was it really _that_ obvious, that Seifer had suspected what she'd been doing all along? It was embarrassing in the extreme, especially because of the extent to which Squall went out of his way to ignore her in return. After last night, however—and the cold-shouldered disinterest she'd been subjected to during what was probably her lowest moment in six years—Quistis hoped that she had started on the road to finally putting Squall Leonhart behind her. Now if she could only convince Seifer to do the same . . . .

The male in question had opted to stay in the first car, sitting up against the wall and glaring off into space. They hadn't spoken again since just after the train had started in motion. Quistis had withstood that heavy silence for all of ten minutes before she'd used her ticket to open the SeeD car and then fled him, like a coward but at this point she really didn't care. She needed to be alone for a few minutes, to regroup. She felt far too exposed to him now, too raw, and for someone like Seifer Almasy—that was a dangerous weakness indeed.

Finally after a few more moments of self-pity, Quistis sighed and then dropped her hands away. Like it or not, she was stuck on the train to Timber. They weren't due to arrive until at least 5:30 to 6:00 in the evening, so chances were she wasn't going to be able to make it back to Garden tonight. Quistis grabbed her cell phone off of her waist holder—still lying flat on her back on the couch—and quickly dialed Xu's number.

As was usual with Xu, there were no preliminaries. "Where the hell are you?" she demanded as soon as she answered. "What's going on?" Quistis smirked, staring up at the ceiling.

"Hello to you too, Xu," she droned, then sighed. "I'm stuck on the train to Timber with Almasy," she replied heavily. "I was trying to convince him not to go throw his entire life away, and the stupid thing took off while I was still on board. I'm just calling to let you and the headmaster know that I probably won't be able to make it back before tomorrow morning sometime."

Xu released a foul curse, then, "it might be a little longer than that." Quistis frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that Timber's just become one helluva military hotspot. It's all over the radio waves. Some stupid resistance faction just tried to kidnap the president of Galbadia by stealing his private train car. The Galbadian military is putting the whole damn town on lock-down." Quistis echoed her earlier curse. "Yeah, your train is probably going to be one of the last allowed in or out of there for a good long while."

"I wonder if the resistance faction that tried to pull off the kidnapping is the one that Squall's working for?" Quistis mused aloud. Xu snorted.

"If it is, I feel sorry for _him,_ because his contractors are complete and total idiots. Any soldier worth his salt knows you don't ever transport a VIP that openly. It was obviously a decoy, and they fell for it like the little patsies they are." Quistis nodded her agreement, even though Xu couldn't possibly see. There was a slight pause, then the other woman released a sigh of her own. "So, any luck with the asshole?"

Quistis gave a bitter chuckle. "Just about as much as I ever have with him," she returned miserably. "He's insisting that he's doing this because a friend of his is in trouble, a member of the resistance group that Squall was assigned to. He's pissed that so few SeeDs were sent to help, and is dead set on going there himself to make sure things are done right."

Xu snorted into the receiver. "Yeah, whatever. He's just pissed that I sent him corralling this morning."

Quistis scowled. "Why _did _you do that, by the way?" she demanded. "You could have chosen any number of Rank 1's for that, yet you go after the most unstable one of the bunch."

"You have to admit it was funny," Xu defended with a guilt-less chuckle.

"Petty revenge is supposed to be beneath you, Xu," Quistis reminded her blandly. "You're supposed to be setting an example to other SeeDs."

"I _am _setting an example," she insisted stubbornly. "I'm making an example out of that worthless piece of garbage who will never be able to let go of his own arrogance long enough to do anything even remotely useful to Garden. The sooner Cid revokes that joke of a license the better. Almasy is an endangerment to himself and everyone else at Garden so long as he stays here. You ask me, him going AWOL already is like a blessing in disguise. Hyne really does love us."

"You ever think it possible that Seifer turned out so badly because of me?" Quistis suddenly questioned, speaking her biggest worry aloud. "The Faculty committee told me I lacked anything even remotely resembling leadership qualities, that I had failed totally and completely as an instructor. If that is true, then my biggest failure of all is Seifer."

"Almasy is the way he is because _he _chooses to be," Xu insisted, though, tone stern. "Sometimes people in this world are just dickheads, and you can't do anything about that." Quistis sighed heavily however, eyes closing.

"But maybe if I'd just paid a little more attention to him," she continued to agonize, "and spent less time chasing after and worrying about Squall. And he knew about that, what's worse," she continued miserably. "Threw it right in my face when I accused him of doing this just to try and one-up Squall."

"And he's using that against you like a little bastard when he knows you're weak and vulnerable toward it," Xu growled. "See? Case in point. Almasy's a hopeless case dickhead, no more worry on the subject required."

Quistis didn't necessarily agree with Xu's biased opinion, but her protective mothering _did _make her smile, for which she was very grateful. Then she sighed. "Well, if I've got military check points to look forward to I've got some planning and prep to do. I'll be in touch."

"You better be," Xu returned. Then the line went dead.

Quistis lay there for a moment more, bracing herself for the confrontation sure to ensue, then forced herself to get up and leave the SeeD car. She found Seifer sitting where she'd left him. He didn't turn when she entered. Quistis took another fortifying breath, then, "I just spoke with Xu. We've got trouble waiting in Timber."

That got his attention. His face swung around, hot emerald eyes narrowing on her with a mixture of suspicion and worry. Genuine worry. Perhaps he really _was _telling the truth.

"Apparently one of those resistance factions tried to kidnap the president by hijacking his private train car."

Seifer suddenly grinned. "Hah! They actually pulled that off?! I'll be damned." Quistis quirked a brow and his smile faded again, then he shrugged. "Me and Rin came up with that plan last year."

Quistis made a face. "Well it proved disastrous, as the man in the train car was just a decoy. In response the Galbadian military has tripled it's presence in town, and Xu anticipates that they'll put the whole town on lockdown."

"Aww, poor Quisty," he suddenly sneered. "Gonna be stuck in hick-ville for quite a while, eh?"

Quistis clenched her fists, jaw tensing. She was going out of her way trying to be civil, and he was repaying her with this crap. What _was _it about this man that drove her to distraction?

"It also means military check points and random searches," she snapped coldly. "So unless you want to spend your time in Timber locked up in some out-of-the-way interrogation room getting a full-cavity search by a big burly guard named Jr., I suggest you get off your ass and help me find something we can conceal our weapons in."

Perversely, instead of growing angry by her outburst, Seifer smirked instead, then outright chuckled. He got to his feet at last, though, then approached.

"Alright, fine. I'll go find something for the weapons. Should be something we can use on the luggage car." He started past, then hesitated. "You might want to go into the bathroom and do something with yourself." She glared in confusion and a mocking grin spread. "You're screaming up-tight hard-ass military bitch in that getup."

Quistis looked down at herself before she could school her vulnerable reaction. He chuckled, but her withering glare was largely wasted on his broad back as he exited and headed for other parts of the train.

Quistis went into the small bathroom in the SeeD private car and stared at her reflection. Her peach top was zipped up to her chin, her hair pulled back tight and clipped in place. Her brows wrinkled with worry, blue eyes shadowed. Did she really come off so harsh and bitchy? She eyed herself critically. Was she really that unattractive? She had always been a little too tall, but she liked to think she wore most of that height well in her long legs. It was true that she was a little too much on the thin and slender side, she decided, eyeing her distinct lack of breasts distastefully. She certainly had nothing to compare to that dark-haired girl in the white cocktail dress . . . .

Quistis made a slight noise of indignant fury, stopping herself from going any farther. _Damn you Almasy! _she snarled inwardly. No one had the ability to make her worry and second-guess herself the way Seifer did. No one, not even Squall.

She glared at her reflection a moment longer, then firmed her chin. Quistis Trepe didn't lay down and accept defeat from anything.

Quistis pulled off her soft brown gloves first, tossing them into the sink. Then she reached up and with two sharp tugs she ripped off the long brown sleeves attached to her top—which were only attached at the top hem—and they joined her gloves. Then she reached up and loosened the fastenings of her top at the neck and at the bottom—down to mid-chest to reveal just the tiniest hint of cleavage and up just past her navel, to reveal her flat belly above the hem of her snug skirt. Quistis reached up to her hair last, removing the clip entirely and allowing her thick blonde hair to tumble loose down to her waist.

She ran her fingers through the mane to loosen it up—some of the strands still damp from her shower this morning—then she turned on her heel and marched out of the bathroom. Let him call her an uptight military bitch _now. _

She found Seifer standing in the first car again, Hyperion now resting in an especially large suit case laying open on the floor at his feet. Quistis winced, silently apologizing to whomever was going to find all their belongings piled loosely all over the floor of the baggage car.

Quistis had to pause, however, watching as Almasy suddenly removed his heavy gray coat. She didn't often see him without it, and felt her breath hitch a little in surprise. The tight, tucked-in, short-sleeved blue t-shirt with the stylized black dragon on the back that he wore beneath it hugged his upper body, revealing what the coat did not—a chiseled profile of muscle trained to deadly precision. His shoulders and back were broad, biceps knotted, forearms powerful, defined pecs and abs marching down his front. His belted black jeans hugged narrowly slung hips, hanging loosely down his long, long legs and folding down over a pair of heavy black combat boots. That wide silver plate he always wore gleamed brightly in the hollow of his thick neck from the overhead lights, his thick strawberry blonde hair slicked back with only a few strands defying him and flopping forward on his tanned forehead.

Seifer suddenly bent over at the waist to fold his coat into the suitcase, and Quistis actually felt her breath catch as his jeans molded over a perfectly sculpted rear-end, which was tight and firm and . . . .

Quistis' eyes widened in horror.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, _no! _She was _not _thinking of Seifer Almasy as an attractive man. She was _not _just ogling his ass. No! She nearly groaned aloud. What, was she sick or something? Did she not have enough psychosis from chasing after Squall for a year and a half? Now she had to jump right from him to something even _worse? _

Seifer straightened, then turned and caught sight of her standing in the doorway. Quistis was still thrown out of sorts from her disturbing turn of thoughts, so she jerked and froze like a deer in the headlights when those fiery emerald eyes met hers. Had she not been so out of sorts herself, she might have wondered at the way Seifer suddenly tensed, nostrils flaring slightly. He gave her a sneering grin, however, eyes sliding down, then back up. His eyebrow quirked.

"Oh yeah," he growled, tone mockingly impressed. "You let your hair down and unzipped your top a little. _Nobody's _gonna recognize you now."

Quistis felt her face flush, feeling entirely too vulnerable and—for some strange reason—inexplicably hurt by his lack of a reaction.

"Go to hell, Almasy," she snarled. She strode forward, unclipping her belt entirely on the way, then threw it and her coiled whip down into the suitcase on top of his coat. She spun away again, but before she could take more than a step away he suddenly spoke again.

"Awfully touchy all of a sudden," he mused. Hyne, had his voice always been so deep and rumbling and . . . , no, no, no, she was _not _going to think of Seifer Almasy's voice as sexy. She _was not! _Quistis stiffened when she heard him move forward, and her eyes rounded a little when the infernal bastard stepped right up behind her, tall frame practically towering over her. Quistis could swear she felt his body heat scorching her whole entire backside. Damn her if she didn't feel her body start to react to his nearness, her breasts—small though they were, they were extremely sensitive—growing heavy, her nipples tingling to full awareness beneath her obscuring layers. "What's got you so worked up, instructor?" he growled low, right in her ear, and for one terrible moment she was afraid he could actually tell the effect he was suddenly having on her.

Quistis stared at the opposite wall, speechless. Seifer . . . was _flirting _with her? Then she shook herself angrily. Of course he wasn't! This was Seifer Almasy she was dealing with. Almasy hated her, and she felt likewise. She was just imagining things, just like she always did. She had the absolute worst intuition when it came to men. Squall was a perfect example. Like hell Almasy was attracted to her or attempting to come on to her. He was just trying to intimidate her, as usual. This realization helped Quistis to regain control, so that she spun slightly and pinned his smirking face with a cold, expressionless stare.

"We should go find a place to hide until the train stops," she announced blandly, completely ignoring his question. "Hopefully we'll be able to sneak off and then blend into the crowd afterward."

Seifer sighed at that, his expression unreadable before he bent down and then scooped up the suitcase.

"Lead the way, instructor," he heaved, then. She spun back forward and headed for the end of the SeeD car.

"Don't call me that," she threw over her shoulder in a hard-edged voice. "I'm not an instructor anymore," she added afterward, her tone softer with emotion.

He didn't reply.

They decided to wait out the rest of the ride in the baggage car. When the train finally rolled to a stop an hour and a half later, they managed to sneak off with minimal fuss. Hyne was with them—for though the streets of Timber were now crawling with Galbadian troops—Seifer and Quistis managed to blend in with the locals and no one cast their passing a second glance.

Seifer glanced to and fro, expression hardened. "With all the trains stopped, the Owls'll have to be in town somewhere," he murmured, then added at her confused glance, "their base is an older model locomotive abandoned by the train companies." He smirked somewhat dryly. "Bright yellow with anti-government graffiti all over it last I checked. Can't miss it."

Quistis snorted. "These guys really _are _as inept as Xu suspected." That won her a black look.

"Don't know a damn thing about 'em, but you're all set to pass judgment, eh?" He led the way through the subdued streets of Timber, keeping his voice low so that only she could hear, but the bite in it was still scathing. "For your information the two leaders of the group, Zone and Watts, watched both of their fathers—the original leaders of the Forest Owls—lined up in a back alley and executed firing-squad-style when they were just thirteen years old. No trial, no judge, no jury, just the executioners. They may not be the greatest military minds that ever lived," he snapped, "but the Owls have every right to hate the fuckin' Galbadian government and more power to them, as far as I'm concerned."

Quistis sighed. "I'm not contesting that, and I'm sorry for your friends," she offered, ignoring the way he rolled his eyes at her. "But that still doesn't excuse the fact that they apparently don't know the first thing about what they're trying to do. Their hearts may be in the right place but their reckless actions are only going to end up getting themselves killed, along with everyone else unfortunate enough to be caught along for the ride. Even the best, most honorable intentions can't bring someone you love back from the dead."

"Hyne forbid you should let go of your cold-ass logic long enough to give a damn about someone else," he muttered. She scowled over at him.

"Hyne forbid _you _should let go of your stupid-ass arrogance long enough to appreciate someone else's viewpoint and admit that you might actually be _wrong _a couple of times in your life," she snarled back.

He suddenly smirked. "Why is it that we always end up arguing like a couple of fishwives?" he suddenly questioned softly.

They both fell silent as they passed by a troop of Galbadians. Quistis tensed when Seifer suddenly wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush up against his side. She had to fight from reacting and blowing their cover, instead forcing herself to lean into his embrace as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The Galbadians marched by without a backward glance, but Seifer kept his hold on her and Quistis was too afraid to pull away. After a moment he continued speaking. "We both agree that what happened to Zone and Watts was bad. We both agree that they're not going about their little insurrection plans in exactly the right way. We both agree that you're a frigid bitch, and that I'm an arrogant asshole. So why do we have to bicker about it like a couple of two-year-olds every time we open our mouths? Don't you think that's odd?"

Quistis scowled ahead. "There's just something about you that doesn't agree with me, Almasy," she replied tonelessly. "Never has."

There was a pause, then a grim, "ditto, Trepe. Ditto. But for the next few minutes you're going to have to pretend like you think I'm the hottest thing on two legs if you want to lose the little fuck that's been tailing us for the past ten minutes." She tensed up at that, but his hand tightened around her hip with an almost bruising grip. "No, don't turn and look, dammit," he snapped, and she scowled. As if she actually would have. She wasn't _that _dense.

"You seem to forget that I graduated to SeeD when you were still in Junior Classes, Almasy," she growled.

"All that proves is that you're a remarkable kiss-ass with no social life," he snapped back.

Then all of a sudden he yanked her down a smaller side street. Quistis barely had time to react before he'd spun her around, grabbed her by the hips and then lifted her clean up off the ground—setting her down firmly on a stack of crates deep in the shadows of the alley—so that she was nearly eye-level with him. Quistis gasped, stunned, when Seifer stepped close and forced her knees to spread around his hips.

"What are you doing—," she began in an enraged whisper. Seifer grabbed her by the upper arms and pulled her forward. He bent down at the same time, canting his head to the side.

"Saving our asses," he growled back just before his mouth settled firmly over her own.

Quistis just sat there, as stiff as a board with shock. Seifer was kissing her. Seifer Almasy was _kissing _her. Well, actually at the moment it was more like he was grinding his lips on top of hers in a poor imitation of the act, but still. He lifted up after only a second, long enough to fix her with a narrow green-eyed glare before he bent again and then fastened his sinful mouth on the lobe of her ear. Quistis' whole body jerked.

"You're going to have to meet me half way here, Trepe," he snarled in her ear, probably looking as though he were whispering sexy sweet nothings rather than upbraiding her performance. "If it looks like I'm molesting you, this'll never work."

"Just what is it that you plan on accomplishing?" she demanded harshly but soft enough that only he could hear, voice shaking and shrill, fists shoving against the broad wall of his chest. Hyne he was so warm, and iron hard. She suddenly felt as though she couldn't catch her breath, and for a horrible moment thought she might start to hyperventilate. "Other than putting on a show for every damned horny bastard that comes strolling down the street—,"

"Hyne dammit, Quistis, just open your mouth!" he growled.

She did so—preparing to lash into him with another verbal tirade—and ended up getting his tongue thrust between her lips. Quistis squeaked—she actually _squeaked_ like one of those ultra-feminine girly-girls—her fingers fisting into the material of his shirt. Seifer seemed not to care, his hands burying into her hair at either side of her face as his wicked tongue slid in and out of her mouth, the rhythm blatantly sexual. He was relentless, nibbling and biting at her lips, tongue battling with hers, his mouth hot and wet and . . . oh Hyne. Seifer effortlessly slammed down any pathetic attempt of a defense that she had until Quistis was stripped bare and completely vulnerable. And she didn't care.

By the time Quistis let out that low moan of surrender, she'd ceased to care about anything. She didn't care that they were in the middle of a military-occupied city. She didn't care that they were being watched by Hyne-knew how many bystanders. She didn't care that it was Seifer Almasy—the most arrogant, prideful, spiteful male in existence—doing these horribly sinful things to her. She didn't care that none of this was real, that they were only pretending in order to avoid getting caught by the Galbadians.

All she cared about was that he didn't stop whatever the hell it was that he was doing to her any time soon.

Quistis arched up off the wall—whimpering when her overly-sensitive breasts crushed against the hard wall of his muscled chest—her arms snaking up and around his thick neck. Seifer groaned then, and his large hands suddenly slid up the length of her bare thighs—hiking her skirt up along the way almost around her waist—until they circled around and then cupped her rear-end, only the thin layer of her underwear between his palms and her bare flesh. His fingers flexed—squeezing dangerously and forcing another whimper from her—before he suddenly pulled her forward on the crates until they were completely plastered together with no room to even breathe between them.

Both groaned when Seifer rocked his hips, almost helplessly. The start of this might have been feigned, but there was no faking the impressively large, hard ridge of flesh currently grinding into her groin. Sweet Hyne, she thought she was going to die, a fierce and throbbing ache blooming to life in between her legs, warm moisture flooding down her passage. Quistis had never been so aroused in her entire life. And irony of all ironies, she was getting her kicks making out with Seifer Almasy in a back alley.

Quistis didn't even notice the voices at first, totally lost into the heat and the need that Seifer had managed to stir up with barely a struggle. Yet all of a sudden he went tense in her arms. Quistis drew back, confused, and met his wide-open, narrow green eyes. He didn't pull away, their mouths not even an inch apart, but neither moved as they heard footsteps nearing their hiding spot.

"Can't believe these stupid hicks," the guard was grumbling. "The whole damn town is crazy. Just about every one of them belongs to one stupid faction or another."

"Can you believe they _actually _managed to hijack that dummy train?" the other questioned, sounding grudgingly impressed.

Quistis attempted to pull away, but Seifer's fingers around her bare ass and hips were steely and wouldn't let her budge an inch. His eyes narrowed on hers, a silent warning in their depths for her to remain still and quiet. She was becoming uncomfortably aware of the stupid, stupid way she'd reacted to his touch and kisses however, and could feel her face burning a hot, mortified scarlet. Oh Hyne, she was so pathetic. He was never going to let her live this down. He'd probably only meant for her to touch him a little and look like she was enjoying herself, not to start grinding herself all over him and moaning like a cheap dock whore.

"Only an idiot would even try something so farfetched in the first place," the first responded to the second as they passed by Seifer and Quistis' location.

"What's the president doing here in Timber anyhow?"

"Dunno. Heard there's supposed to be some big to-do down at the TV station," the first answered, tone bored. "That President Deling is supposed to be going there this afternoon personally. Don't really know too much other than that. You know how it is, they don't tell us grunts anything worthwhile. It's on a need-to-know basis," he sneered as they moved on down the alley, nearly out of sight and hearing range, "and we don't need to know."

A moment later the guards were gone. A split instant passed where Seifer and Quistis remained glued to one another—almost unsure of how they should react—before Seifer abruptly pulled away and spun on his heel. Quistis immediately yanked her skirt back down, shivering in the sudden chill air. She frowned when Seifer knelt to the suit case he'd dropped and ripped it open. He yanked out his coat and shrugged into it, then pulled Hyperion.

"What are you doing?" she questioned, confused. And doing her best to ignore the fiery shivers that were still humming through her body.

"I'm going to the TV station," he replied tonelessly without turning back to her, checking his gunblade for rounds. Quistis gaped.

"What?" she hissed. "Are you _insane?! _You can't go there! It'll be crawling with Galbadians! Aren't we supposed to be _avoiding _detection here?!"

Seifer wasn't listening to her, however. He began stalking down the alley after the two soldiers who had left. Quistis had no choice but to hop off the crates, grab her belt and whip and reattach them to her waist before running after him and fighting to keep up with his longer-legged stride.


	13. Chapter 12 : Timber Maniacs

**Chapter Twelve**

_Timber Maniacs_

Squall, Zell and Selphie followed Zone and Rinoa as they led the way back into their meeting room.

"Man, I can't believe the president was a fake!" Zone burst out, kicking at the near-by table before wincing and hopping a little with the pain to his toes.

"I can't believe we fell for it!" Rinoa seconded soon after, arms crossing and expression petulant.

Squall tensed at the sound of running footsteps. "Info, sir!" Watts was yelling as he ran. "New info!" He ran into the room, then paused for a second to catch his breath before hopping with excitement. "It's big news," he insisted. "I found out the real reason why the president's here, sir! The president's going to the TV station! Security's super tight, sir!"

Rinoa frowned. "The TV station?" she mused. "Why in Timber? They can broadcast just as easily from Galbadia."

Selphie suddenly turned to Squall, eyebrows raised. "Do you think the Dollet Communication tower has anything to do with this?" The squad leader blinked, stunned. Not only by the idea, but that Selphie had picked up on it so quickly. She obviously wasn't as air-headed as she pretended to be.

"What's that?" Zone demanded. Squall sighed.

"Dollet has a communication tower that can transmit and receive radio waves," he explained. "It had been abandoned for a long time, but the Galbadian Army got it up and running yesterday."

Zone's blank stare suddenly melted into one of understanding. "Oh," he cried. "I get it. The only TV station that can handle broadcasts over the air is in Timber. Other stations use HD cable, which only supports online broadcasting."

There was a moment of silence, and then Rinoa huffed and demanded, "so, what's that supposed to mean?"

Zone sighed loudly, then explained in a slow voice as if speaking to a young child. "They're planning on using radio waves. This way they can transmit to regions without cable."

Rinoa colored slightly. "I know that!" she insisted uncomfortably, then continued before anyone could try and call her out on that falsehood. "What I want to know is, what is the president going to broadcast? Why use radio waves?" She put a hand on her hip, biting at her lower lip. "There must be something they want to say to the whole world. What can it be?"

Selphie suddenly lifted her arm in the air, flashing a peace sign. "Everybody!" she cried. "Love! And Peace!"

Everyone else in the room rolled their eyes or groaned. Squall sighed loudly, retracting his previous assessment. Selphie probably _was _that airheaded, she just got lucky every now and then.

Zone suddenly tapped his chin, expression thoughtful. "If I remember correctly, radio waves haven't been used in seventeen years." Rinoa gaped.

"It's been that long?" When Zone nodded, she suddenly grinned. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if the first broadcast would be the declaration of Timber's independence?"

Zone grinned as well. "Hey!" he exclaimed excitedly. "That might be possible!" Rinoa clapped her hands.

"Let's come up with a plan then!"

Zone and Watts immediately moved over to a far corner of the room, squatting down on the floor and beginning to convene on various ideas. Rinoa turned to the SeeDs, smiling. "Can you give us a minute?" Then she turned and went to crouch down with the other two.

Squall could only stare, mute and appalled.

"They call that a strategy meeting?!" Zell hissed, eyes wide and just as disgusted as he was apparently.

Selphie just rolled her eyes, then turned to Squall. "Can't we go home now?" she whined, stretching one of her legs behind her. "What about our contract? Shouldn't we check it, Squall?"

That was a very valid question. Squall turned on his heel and immediately stepped over to the farce taking place in the far corner. Rinoa stood when she saw him.

"Oh, good timing!" she crowed. "We've come up with a plan."

Squall took in a long, calming breath, one hand massaging his temple. "Before we get to that," he heaved, "can I see your contract with Garden?"

Rinoa blinked. "Oh, sure," she murmured, then knelt again and reached for a small box underneath some blankets. Squall knelt next to her as she rummaged around in it, and then pulled out a folded piece of paper. Squall took it, eyes quickly perusing it's contents. Selphie and Zell approached, the former bending over at the waist and completely ignoring the way Zone and Watts got all bug-eyed behind her.

"What's it say?" Zell questioned eagerly. Squall sighed.

"Balamb Garden—hereafter referred to as party A," he read aloud, "acknowledges the Forest Owls—hereafter referred to as party B—as the hiring party. SeeD—hereafter referred to as party C—shall be dispatched upon signing of this contract. Party C shall operate under the supervision—,"

"The hell?" Zell interrupted, expression confused. Selphie fared no better.

"I don't get it," she complained.

"Oh yeah," Rinoa suddenly murmured, then reached over and snatched the paper back out of Squall's hands. She either didn't notice or ignored his annoyed scowl afterward. "That one's kind of confusing," she admitted, folding it again and putting it back in the box. "When I told him I didn't understand, he gave me a different one." She produced another piece of paper out of the box and held it out to him. Squall snatched it out of her hand this time. She just gave him a sugary sweet smile in return. "Cid is such a nice man."

"What's it say this time?" Selphie demanded. Squall cleared his throat, then began to read.

"To the Forest Owls. This SeeD deployment contract will last until Timber achieves independence." Zell and Selphie's jaws dropped. Squall continued to read, tone becoming more bland and toneless as he continued. To anyone who knew him, they would recognize that as the only indication that he was getting more pissed with every line. "Please make good use of each SeeD member. I wish you the best with your objective. Please understand that this contract is an exception, and no replacement of any SeeD members can be made. Signed, Balamb Garden Headmaster, Cid Kramer."

"Until Timber's independence?!" Zell burst out, scowling.

"That is sooooo vague!" Selphie whined directly afterward, face aghast. Squall got to his feet, tossing the contract back to Rinoa without even glancing in her direction. She caught it, flustered, the scowled and shot to her feet as well. Her hands caught on her curvy hips.

"Hey, you're paid professionals!" she scolded sternly. "No complaining!"

Zell and Selphie muttered and grumbled in futility while she bent and replaced her contract in it's box. Squall just stood still and silent, trying to get a handle on his temper. He was going to be stuck with a bunch of morons for an undisclosed eternity working toward a nearly impossible goal. His life was over.

Rinoa straightened then, and turned to the others. "Let's decide on the party!" she exclaimed. Predictably, Watts raised his hands and shook his head.

"Gathering information is my specialty, sir!" he pronounced before high-tailing it out of there. Zone fell into a crouch like clockwork, grabbing at his middle and complaining about his stomach.

Rinoa took a slow breath, then turned to the other three, who were now eyeing her with expressions ranging from disgruntlement to bland irritation.

"So out of the four of us, the three who'll be heading to the TV station will be . . . Squall, Zell and myself."

Selphie released a loud sigh of boredom, but obediently turned to stare out of the window as they neared Timber.

Squall led Rinoa and Zell out of the meeting room. Watts was standing near the door. Rinoa motioned for them to wait and then she hurried off down the hall toward her room. As they stood there, Squall motioned to him. "Just where is the TV station exactly?"

"The TV station, sir?! It's quite close if you take the local train," he assured. Then his face fell. "But the local and transcontinental trains have stopped running, sir." Something in Squall's expression must've given away his annoyance, for Watts motioned soothingly. "Nothing to worry about, sir! There must be someone who knows."

Rinoa suddenly reappeared from down the hall, a Pinwheel model arm cannon now strapped to her right arm and Angelo trailing faithfully at her heels.

"Are you ready, sir?!"

". . . yeah," he finally heaved as Rinoa came back beside him with an eager grin.

Watts nodded as the train slowly pulled to a stop. "Best of luck, sir," he murmured. "I'll be keeping watch here."

Squall stepped off the train, glancing around and immediately taking note that the amount of Galbadian soldiers patrolling the streets had tripled. He grimly loosened the catch on his gunblade. Watts suddenly hopped off the train and then stepped over to the town map erected near by. He studied it for a moment, then gasped.

"Say! I remember now, sir!" He pointed to the map. "I think the TV station is located behind a building called the Timber Maniacs!" He turned back with a smile. "Please head in that direction, sir! I hope you find it!"

"_Waaaaaaaaaaatts!" _Zone's voice suddenly roared from inside the train. "_C'mon! _The Galbadian soldiers are comin'!"

Watts winced. "Lots of soldiers patrolling the city now," he announced needlessly as if Squall hadn't already noticed. "Please be careful sir!" The train started to pull away, and still Watts remained, oblivious. "Seems like the hotel's not available either," he continued. "Should you need to recover, use the Owl's Tear, sir! Heard it works wonders! I believe you can find it at the old man's house . . ." He took note of Zell's eye rolling and shrugged. "I guess you won't be needing it anyway. You're all SeeDs, you'll be fine, right, sir?" he questioned then, almost as if he were trying to convince himself.

Watts then glanced behind him and finally noticed that the train was almost gone out of the docking area. "Hey?!" he cried, then hopped off onto the tracks below and began running after them, giving chase. "Don't leave me siiiiiiiiiir!"

Squall just rolled his eyes heavenward, ignoring Rinoa and Zell's chuckles as he led the way down off the boarding ramp and then—for lack of any other better idea—began walking east. The others followed. They found themselves crossing a huge bridge that went over the top of nearly twenty different tracks crisscrossing and bisecting each other. Rinoa went to the edge and leaned up on her tippy-toes. Angelo sniffed at the ground near-by, unimpressed.

"Looks like the trains have stopped running," she mused softly. "Usually the local trains would be running here. A lot of hustle and bustle . . . ."

Squall just kept moving, and she was forced to hop back down and follow or be left behind.

They eventually ran across a two-story building, a huge sign out front proclaiming them to be the Timber Maniacs headquarters. Squall told the others to wait outside and make themselves inconspicuous before he ducked inside to take a look around. Piles of old magazines were stacked everywhere all over the floor. A very bored middle-aged woman stood behind the counter near-by, filing her nails as a metal oscillating fan blew full-blast at her side. She flashed him a flirty grin, one that Squall ignored as he moved through the back hall, doing his best to pretend as though he belonged there. The various employees he passed never gave him a second glance.

He eventually found himself in a back office. He glanced around to make certain no one was around, then he moved the blinds aside. There was an alleyway below, which looked like it would lead to a fire access stairway that one could scale and then cross a bridge to the TV station in the distance. Problem was it looked completely inaccessible unless he dropped out of this window . . . or perhaps that back door. Squall spotted the rear entrance to what looked to be a bar or restaurant of some type. That was his ticket. He nodded to himself, satisfied, then turned on his heel and left the magazine editing building.

He caught back up with Zell and Rinoa and then motioned for them to follow him as he navigated the streets of Timber to the best of his ability, until he finally came across a Pub. Squall was almost positive that this was the building that he'd seen that back door to. Only problem was there were two Galbadian soldiers standing right outside of it.

"That was too easy, man," the guard chuckled nastily, gazing at what appeared to be a Triple Triad card in his hand "Heheh, for a country bumpkin he sure had some good stuff." His fellow shook his head.

"Yo, you better ease off a little," his friend warned. "These Timber hicks hate us enough as it is."

Rinoa growled low under her breath at the insult and the indignity. Angelo echoed her reaction accordingly, crouching and letting out a blistering and far more intimidating growl, the fur on his ruff standing on end. The guards whirled toward the noise, then gaped at the sight of the three armed teens.

"Let's get 'em!"

Rinoa shot off the pinwheel from her arm cannon, which caught the first guard right in the face. Though it pinged harmlessly off his helmet, the force did throw him back onto his butt. With a snapped command, Angelo leapt from her side and then launched himself at the downed man. He jerked, then choked when the dog leapt onto his chest and then snapped his jaws around the guard's throat. Not tearing the skin or breaking bones—yet—just subduing. The man wisely froze in place.

His buddy turned and started to raise his blade. Squall pounced in and knocked it out of his grasp, then a stiff punch of his own had the guard dropped to the ground, unconscious. He then stepped over to the other one and snatched the card out of his raised hands.

Squall turned and began for the door of the pub. Rinoa followed after him.

"Hey!" the guard wheezed. "You can't just leave me here like this!" he exclaimed. "Call off the damn dog!"

Rinoa stopped, then turned and whistled sharply. Angelo immediately released him and then trotted to her side. The Galbadian had only a moment to breathe a sigh of relief before Zell's well-aimed kick to his temple as he passed had the guard just as unconscious as his fellow.

Squall pushed his way into the darkened pub, and did so just in time to hear a drunk in the back let out a belligerent yell.

"I've had enough of this city!" he bellowed. "I came from Dollet to have me a good time. And now . . . Trains are no longer running, can't even stay in a hotel because of some stupid official! Harassed by Galbadian soldiers! Had my precious card stolen." Squall glanced down at the Buel card in his hand, then back up to the drunkard currently sitting against the back door he needed to get through. "This hasn't been my day," he continued, and Squall couldn't help but echo those sentiments. "Those jerks . . . They think they can use brute force to get anything they want. Hell . . . This town's a good example. Yeah . . . Everything's jacked up because the resistance tried to kidnap the president. Thanks to them, the trains have stopped, there's Galbadian soldiers all over the place. All because of them! Don't they understand I'm the one suffering from their reckless actions?! Stupid, boneheaded, good-for-nothing, resistance! You can just kiss my—,"

"Hey!" Rinoa suddenly yelled out, incensed. Squall clenched his teeth. What better way to blow their cover?

Luckily another man in the bar suddenly stood and came to the resistance members' defense, saving the beautiful albeit boneheaded female at his side from putting all their lives in bigger jeopardy.

"You don't understand anything!" the nameless defender insisted, just as belligerently. No doubt he was just as drunk. "The resistance is fighting for Timber's future! They're doing the best they can. It's the Galbadian soldiers and their leader who are at fault!" The man sat back down again, then yelled for another drink.

"Pssh," was the drunk-at-the-door's opinion to that.

Squall began leading the way closer. Rinoa wrung her hands.

"What should we do?" she whispered, eyeing him with uncertainty. Squall shrugged.

"Talk to him," he murmured back, before stepping forward and gaining the drunk drifter's attention. "We need to get through," he announced. The man eyed him with bleary, blood shot eyes and then snorted.

"Geez, and now I'm getting dissed by some punk?!" He flopped to the side and motioned to the frowning man in an apron nearby. "Owner!" he bellowed. "Gimme another drink!"

Squall bent down and grabbed the man's face below the chin and wrenched it back toward him, having lost his patience. He ignored Rinoa's gasp and the man's startled expression, his own deadpan. He held the card in his hand directly in front of the drunk's face.

"Is this your card?" he demanded. The man's eyes crossed with the effort it took to look at something so close to his nose, then he gasped.

"Huh? It is!" he exclaimed, then scowled. "Why do you have it?!"

Squall stood and then tossed it onto the man's chest. "Found it outside," he announced, tone just as bland. The hardness in his eyes must've told the drifter the other part of the story, for his eyes suddenly went huge and maybe even a little color drained from his otherwise flushed cheeks.

"Are you serious?" he demanded, awed. When Squall didn't reply, he gulped. " . . . Okay. Thanks." He lifted the card and stared at it, then suddenly straightened and gave Squall a grin. "Know what? I'm feelin' generous! So you can keep that card. And also . . . this one!" The drunk fished another card out of his pants and then held them out. Squall was glad he was wearing gloves as he took the two proffered gifts. "I'll move out of the way now," the drifter then pronounced. He made to move, but apparently he'd drank so much alcohol that his extremities no longer wanted to obey his desires. He finally turned back to the man with the apron. "Hey owner," he called out. "I can't stand up. Can ya help me?"

The aproned individual made a face, but sighed and approached. He took the drunk beneath the arms and helpfully dragged him off to the side, away from the door. "Whoa," he groaned, then hiccupped as Squall and the others began to pass by. "I'm totally wasted," was his accurate assessment then.

Squall just snorted, then shoved the door open and exited into the back alley, tossing the cards in his hand into a trashcan near-by along the way. He led the way through the ally, bypassing another drunk in the corner and a couple of lazy stray cats atop some refuse. He also ignored the two kids high above them, yelling and laughing as they hung out the window.

Squall entered through the rickety metal gate on the other end of the narrow alley, then started up the fire-escape stairs. Rinoa, Zell and Angelo were right behind him. After three flights they reached the first bridge that circled around a huge building and what looked to be an enormous outside TV screen mounted to the side.

Zell whistled low through his teeth as they passed beneath it. "Whoa," he called. "An outdoor TV!"

It was currently black with streams of red data running across the screen, the speakers staticky.

"This is creepy," Rinoa mused. She turned to Squall. "What is it?" He sighed, hand on his hip.

"This noise is broadcast over most of the frequencies. Something has to be done about this before they can broadcast over the air."

Zell crossed his arms. "Oh really? I was wondering that myself."

They all turned to the sound of footsteps up the stairs. Watts suddenly appeared.

"The president's in the studio now, sir!" he called, then shook his head. "Too many guards now, so we won't be able to storm the place, sir!" Then he ran back down and disappeared.

Squall took a few deep breaths, fists clenching and unclenching. Hyne-dammit. He had _almost_ finished pulling off their stupid, half-cocked, poorly generated on the fly plan, and now they were going to change their minds when he was half-way in the middle of it. He just knew it. Sure enough, Rinoa bit her lip in indecision, crossing her arms beneath her breasts.

"So we can't just rush in," she mused softly. "We gotta come up with a new plan now!" she exclaimed, much to Squall's annoyance. Zell sighed loudly behind him, indicating that he wasn't the only one quickly getting fed up here. "If the president leaves, maybe the guards will be gone too?" she offered. "That's when we do _our _broadcast. It might not be as influential, but it's better than nothing, right? We don't stand a chance if we take 'em head on, right?"

She was asking his opinion on her own orders. Squall turned away, staring out at the rooftops, so that maybe he could calm himself down. "Don't worry about us," he replied at length. He noticed her aghast look out of the corner of his eye and sighed. "We'll fight your enemies based on your decision. That's our duty."

"You tell us to go, we go," Zell seconded. He shrugged. "Even if it's a losing battle."

Rinoa just shook her head, frowning. "How sad," she murmured after a moment. "Act on my decision?" she parroted. "That's your duty?" Then she scoffed, shaking her head. "Oh, what an easy life it must be, just to follow orders."

Squall spun back to her, his mask cracking slightly to allow a dark scowl shine through. He was officially reaching the end of his patience, and his temper. Zell had leveled her with a dark look as well. No one liked having their life's career sneered at, after all.

"Call it what you want," he bit out. "All we want is for you to achieve your goal using our help." He released a sneering chuckle after that, glancing away. "I find it hard to believe that you can do it, though."

"W-What did you say?" she demanded, scowling. She took a step toward him, cheeks flushing. "Look, if you have something to say, just say it!"

For a moment Squall almost held his piece. In any other situation he would've just stared at the person and given some toneless response about him being finished. But those flashing dark eyes dug under his skin and he found himself advancing on her, his voice a low growl of agitation.

"How serious are you, really?" he demanded. "The three of you plop down on the floor to discuss strategy? On top of that, you can't make a decision without our input, right?" He jabbed his fingers into his chest, his last words nearly a frustrated yell. "How do you think we feel, working for such an organization?"

Rinoa's eyes had widened with every word, and they now flashed up at him, filled with shock and hurt. Inwardly Squall cursed, as he felt as though he'd just kicked a kitten or something. Zell suddenly stepped closer, a hand on his shoulder.

"You're being too hard, man," the blonde murmured, soft enough that only he heard.

Squall heaved a sigh, then turned and stepped away again. Behind him Rinoa took a few breaths, looking dangerously close to tears.

"You know . . . Maybe this was all a big mistake," she murmured miserably. "I thought everything would work out fine once SeeD came to help us." She wrapped her arms around herself and walked a few steps toward the stairs. "But I guess it's not that easy," she continued to muse. "You were all hired. It's not like you're one of us." Squall refused to analyze how such a logical statement made him feel strangely bereft and hurt. Rinoa stopped at the base of the stairs leading down, chewing at her lip. "Um, let's see . . . We'll cancel the plan," she abruptly decided, "and will disperse for now." Squall finally turned from staring out in the distance to meet her gaze. He was incredibly disconcerted to find tears swimming in her big brown eyes, almost ready to fall. "So . . ." she choked out, hiccupping a little, then she clenched her arms. "You guys probably think this is all a game to us." She scowled through the two fat tears that slipped down either cheek. "Well it's not!" she exclaimed. "We're serious. So serious . . . it hurts."

And then with that Rinoa spun on her heel and began running down the stairs, one hand pressed to her mouth, obviously crying. Angelo followed after her. Squall just sighed, ignoring Zell's uncomfortable wince as the blonde stuck his fingers back through his hair.

Selphie suddenly appeared on the stairs, turning back to stare after Rinoa as she fled. "Heey?" she called after her, but the brunette refused to turn or answer, so Selphie just shrugged and then continued up.

As she reached the catwalk, all of a sudden the enormous TV screen in front of them flickered to life. "Are they starting?" she questioned. All of them turned to watch.

On the screen they saw various camera-men scurrying to and fro. There was a stage with a podium set upon it, flags of Galbadia crossed behind. A hefty blonde man in a pinstripe navy suit suddenly stepped up onto the stage and behind the podium, then adjusted the mic.

"T-Testing," he began, uncertain. "1 . . .2 . . . Testing . . Testing." Someone behind the camera must have given him the go-ahead, for his face suddenly broke out into a broad grin. "Oh! P-People of the world! Can you see me?! Can you hear me?!" He put a hand to his chest, overcome. "Oh, this is incredible! Ladies and gentlemen, this is not a recording!" the announcer assured. "This is an actual broadcast over the air! Yes, it's been 17 years since a live broadcast has been possible!" He hesitated then, and cleared his throat. "Oh, please excuse me . . . I seem to have lost my composure." Officious music began in the background, what must have been Galbadia's national anthem. The announcer bowed. "We would like to present to you today a message from the lifelong president of Galbadia, Vinzer Deling. Ladies and gentlemen, President Deling."

The announcer turned to the right and motioned, then stepped off to the left of the screen. From the right the real president of Galbadia appeared and stepped up behind the podium. He motioned grandly with both arms.

"Greetings," he began. "I am Vinzer Deling, lifelong president of Galbadia. Today I stand before you to make the following proposition. We the people of the world have the power to end all wars."

Selphie hopped in place excitedly. "See, see! It's a peace proposal to the world! I knew it!"

"Unfortunately," the president continued, tone hardening slightly, "there are some trifling problems standing between Galbadia and other nations, and they must be resolved." There was some noise in the background, as if something had fallen or something. The president glanced to the side, then cleared his throat and continued, undaunted. "I plan to convene with other nations' leaders immediately to resolve these problems. At this time, allow me to introduce the ambassador who will be my representative for the conference."

Zell scoffed. "So much for your love and peace," he sneered at Selphie, who stuck her tongue out at him. Then he sighed. "Man, all this just to introduce an ambassador."

"The ambassador is the Sorceress . . ." the president began.

"The sorceress?" Squall parroted, brow furrowing, stunned.

The announcements were halted however as more noise errupted off screen. This time it was much louder, though, along with raised voices yelling and what might have been gunfire. The president gasped, his face paling. Just then the commotion—whatever it was—caused the TV camera to totter over onto it's side.

All three of their jaws collectively dropped as a familiar towering figure in a long gray trench-coat suddenly appeared on the tilted screen. Seifer commenced to kicking the crap out of the three guards who tried to subdue him, tossing them this way and that. And then he leapt onto the stage and grabbed the gaping president, shoving the smaller man in front of him and using him as a body shield. The blonde's face was twisted into a hard snarl as he lifted Hyperion and leveled the blade on the president's neck, to ward off the mass of soldiers now crowding on the edge of the screen.

And then Quistis suddenly appeared, motioning for the guards to back off.

"Stay back!" she yelled authoritatively.

"What's he doin?!" Selphie demanded.

"Instructor Trepe?" Zell blurted, then he turned to him. "Squall, what are we gonna do?!"

On screen Quistis turned her back on Seifer as more guards appeared and leveled their weapons on the tall teen. "For the last time," she snarled, "stay back! You're only going to provoke him!"

Squall shrugged to Zell's question. "Nothing," he answered blandly. "Our job is to assist the Owls," he then replied at their stunned looks. "It's none of our business."

Just then Quistis turned to the camera. "Timber team, are you watching?" she called out, frazzled. She took a step closer to the screen. "Get over here right now!" she demanded. "You _have _permission! I need your help!"

A moment later the screen finally went to complete snow and static. Selphie and Zell turned to him.

"Squad leader?" Selphie questioned, eyebrow raised and nunchaku brandished. Zell growled.

"Squall?!"

He let out a low groan, then sighed and motioned for them to go ahead. All three of them then jogged down the catwalks and headed for the TV station in the distance.


	14. Chapter 13 : The Best of Intentions

_**Author's Note - **Thanks to everyone who reviewed in response to my request a couple of chapters ago. Glad to know there're others enjoying the story so far. Here's the real test. So far things have been staying pretty true to the game. From now on, things are going to take a bit of a left turn. Hopefully it'll stay interesting! I'll be looking forward to seeing how you all react!_

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

_The Best of Intentions_

The three of them hurried into the broadcasting room to find Seifer on the far left of the stage, gunblade still held to the president's throat. Apparently Quistis had managed to chase the Galbadians out of the immediate room, but no doubt they were still watching avidly. She herself was standing at the base of the stage. She turned as they entered, and slumped slightly with relief.

"We need to restrain him!" she announced.

Squall strolled farther into the room, arms crossed and looking completely unperturbed. He lifted his gaze to pin a mildly-offended Seifer with a bland stare, one eyebrow raised. "What do you think you're doing?" he questioned at length. Seifer snorted.

"It's obvious, ain't it?" he countered. "What are you planning to do with this guy?"

_Planning to do? _Squall parroted inwardly, then he frowned. _That's right . . . He knows Rinoa. Is that why he's here . . . ? _

"I get it!" Zell suddenly burst forth. "You're Rinoa's—,"

"Shut your damn mouth, Chicken-wuss!" Seifer snarled. Yet it was clear what Zell was about to say. Strangely enough, Seifer wasn't the only one disturbed with such a possibility.

"He went AWOL," Quistis suddenly proclaimed bitterly, "left against orders and I ended up getting stuck on the train with him. I've been trying to convince him to stop this nonsense ever since, not that the arrogant jerk will listen to a word I've been saying."

Squall cast his eyes toward the volatile martial-artist, who was now nearly hyperventilating with rage. He rolled his eyes heavenward and prayed to Hyne.

"_You stupid idiot!" _Zell finally burst forth. Squall groaned.

_Zell please . . . _"Be quiet," he ordered softly. He was ignored.

"Instructor, I know! You're gonna take this stupid idiot back to Garden, right?!"

"Shut up!" Squall snarled, causing Zell to jerk. "_No!" _

Deling suddenly chuckled, still pale and sweaty, but now with a grim smile. "I see," he murmured. "You're all from Garden." Zell gasped, clapping a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. A little too late, unfortunately. "Should anything happen to me," Deling continued, "the entire Galbadian military will undoubtedly crush Garden." The president wrenched a little in Seifer's hold, but the taller blonde didn't budge. Deling sneered. "You can let go of me now."

"Nice going, Chicken-wuss!" Seifer spat. "You and your stupid big mouth!" Zell slumped, stricken. Then Seifer swung his hot green eyes from Zell to the other blonde in the room. "Take care of this mess, instructor," he barked, then to Squall, "and Mr. Leader!"

Seifer swore in three different languages as he dragged the Galbadian president back off the stage and through the hall. Great. This was just Hyne-damned perfect. He would've already been long gone if Quistis hadn't cut him off. Just what in the hell was she thinking anyway? He'd thought she was on his side. Especially after . . . And now Chicken-wuss had to go and open his yap and blurt out where they were all from. If the Owls tried to take any action against this heavily sweating pig now, then Garden would be held responsible. So now he was stuck in a TV studio in the middle of nowhere surrounded on all sides by slavering Galbadian soldiers getting a hard on just _thinking_ about plugging him in the skull, with absolutely no exit strategy to speak of.

Talk about a cluster-fuck of epic proportions.

Seifer pulled the president into another room, this one lit in freaky violet soft lighting with white drapes hanging from the ceiling around the stage. He cast his eyes around, searching desperately for a way out of this impossible situation. He gaped however as the drapes in the back suddenly began rippling like a pool of water. He scowled, eyes narrowing, trying to make sure his eyes and nerves weren't playing tricks on him.

No, sure enough, the drapes _were_ rippling. And then out walked a tall woman dressed in a skin-tight black gown, the neckline plunging down well to her belly with a ruff of black feathers surrounding her shoulders. Her head was obscured by a strange headdress that tinkled like a wind chime as she moved, her face hidden by a red mask attached to it. Her arms were completely covered in black gloves and her fingers were curved into talon-like claws. Seifer could only gape, eyes wide, as the woman swayed across the stage, nearing him.

"Poor, poor boy," she called in a haunting, whispery soft voice. Seifer came to his senses finally and tightened his hold on Deling, raising his gunblade closer to his neck.

"Stay away from me!" he snarled threateningly. He couldn't see her expression, but he could hear her lilting chuckle and the sound seemed to echo eerily throughout the entire room.

"Such a confused little boy," was her gentle assessment. "Are you going to step forward? Retreat? You have to decide."

"Stay back!" he roared again, this time almost desperately. Who—or what—in the hell _was _this chick?

Right at that moment Quistis suddenly ran forward.

"Seifer!" She skid to a stop when she caught sight of the tall woman in black, her eyes widening. He inwardly cursed. The woman chuckled again, and the sound sent a cold chill up Seifer's spine.

"Even better," she murmured, then all of a sudden she raised her arm high.

A brilliant flash of light erupted, and then Seifer felt his body flying backward as if some massive thing had struck him. He collided with a pile of camera equipment, stars ringing in his head. His vision went hazy from the impact as well as whatever spell the mysterious woman had cast, suddenly unable to move or speak. The president—now free—turned on his heel and fled the room as if his pants were on fire. Everyone else ignored him.

Seifer was forced to watch, helpless, as the tall woman beckoned and Quistis started walking forward toward her up the steps of the stage, almost as if summoned. Her face was pale, eyes very wide, lips parted as she panted for breath. As if she were trying to fight but losing the battle.

"Come, child," the woman was whispering in her haunting, seductive voice. "Forget these fools who have never understood you or appreciated your true potential. You are a _goddess _among _peasants."_ The woman in black began backing up toward the drapes, waving her fingers and Quistis trailed after her helplessly. "Come with me," she whispered softly, "to a place of no return. Bid farewell to your childhood."

Quistis turned as Squall and the others suddenly ran up from where she had originally appeared. They halted at the threshold, eyes wide and confused as to what was going on. The blonde female stared at them for a moment, then swung back and stared at him. Seifer couldn't move, but in his head he was screaming.

_Hyne, no . . . Don't . . . Quistis!_

She stared at him for a moment longer, then turned her back on him, on all of them. The woman in black quickly threw up another spell that had Squall and the others unable to move or interfere. Then Quistis followed as she passed through the rippling drapes. And just like that, they were gone as if they had never been.

As soon as they disappeared, Seifer regained the use of his limbs. He scrambled to his feet, for the moment dropping Hyperion onto the stage with a loud clatter and not caring. He ignored the others, taking a tentative step toward the drapes, then another. He reached out—his hand was actually trembling—and touched them, but nothing happened. They were just ordinary drapes, a solid wall behind them. Quistis and the mysterious woman were gone.

Just . . . gone.

"Where did they go?" Squall demanded from behind him. Seifer just shook his head. "Where's Quistis?"

"I don't . . . they just . . . she . . ." he was stuttering like an idiot, but couldn't seem to work up the gumption to give a damn. "They're gone," he announced finally, turning around and staring at the others, who's expressions of wide-eyed disbelief probably mirrored his own. "They walked through the wall. Through a fucking _wall." _

They all turned at the sound of footsteps, and then suddenly Rinoa appeared from down an opposite hallway.

"Seifer!" she exclaimed upon seeing him, her expression unreadable, out of breath as she'd apparently run here full-speed from somewhere else. "C'mon, everyone!" she heaved. "I know a way out. Hurry!"

Jolted into action, Seifer forced himself to leave the wall. He bent and snatched up Hyperion off the ground and then followed Rinoa as she led the way out of the TV station. Pubes, Wuss and the Messenger all followed him out. He focused on the task at hand, promising himself he'd figure this thing out with Quistis later. He couldn't think about it now. If he did . . . well, he wasn't sure what would happen, but he was almost certain it wouldn't be good.

They headed down a long catwalk, then around a building with a huge TV screen and toward a flight of fire-escape stairs. Rinoa turned and hesitated as she started descending. "They found our base," she announced, tone tired. "It's completely destroyed."

Selphie gasped, eyes wide. "And everyone else?" Now Rinoa grinned, chuckling.

"They're fine," she assured. "They're good at escaping."

She began down the stairs in earnest, the four of them following. When they reached a back alley, she paused again.

"We have to stay away from Timber for a while." Surprisingly, the girl suddenly turned to Squall, who seemed to jerk a little with surprise at the sudden, unexpected maneuver. Her brown eyes were pleading, and Seifer knew from experience how hard it was to deny that damned look. If he weren't so upset and pissed off at the moment he might have chuckled at Pubes' predicament. "Is there a safe place you can take me?"

Squall eyed her distastefully, then rolled his eyes and ran a hand back through his hair. Rinoa scowled, stomping her foot in indignation.

"This is an _order_ from your _client,_ remember?" she snapped then, tone frosty.

Pubes crossed his arms, sighing heavily and looking sorely set upon. Zell and Selphie snickered behind him.

"Alright," he finally conceded.

Rinoa smirked in triumph, then motioned for everyone to follow her again as she led the way into the back door of a pub. They moved quickly for the entrance, but their way was suddenly blocked by a husky woman dressed in a long-sleeved brown shirt, green ankle-length skirt and a dark blue scarf tied around her long black hair. Seifer recognized her from when he had come to Timber last year. Her name was Sylvia Brenner, but everyone knew her as Chief, the leader of yet another one of many Timber resistance factions. She motioned to them, and he and Rinoa approached.

"Rinoa," she called. "I heard your base is in serious trouble. Come over to my place until things settle down." Rinoa grinned.

"I appreciate it, thank you." Chief turned to him and grinned.

"Ballsy, kid," she then murmured as she turned and started for the door. "Dumb as hell, but ballsy. Even _I _have to give you that one."

Rinoa followed after Chief immediately. Seifer hesitated and turned when he saw that the other three weren't as swift on the uptake.

"What the hell you waitin' for, Pubes?" he snapped to Squall. "A gilded invitation? Move your asses!"

That one him three dark looks but Seifer turned his back on them, not giving a damn what they thought. The five of them followed Chief through the streets of Timber, ducking, dodging and weaving through the back alleys doing their best to avoid patrols wherever they could—and taking them down fast and quietly where they couldn't. They all arrived at a small housing district next to the Timber Maniacs building, and followed Chief inside.

The entrance opened up into a large kitchen and dining room area, and the five of them piled inside. Selphie headed for the window, keeping a lookout. Seifer and Rinoa moved to the back of the kitchen, toward the stairs that would lead up to the bedrooms. Zell walked over to the furnace at the base of those stairs—uncommonly silent—and crouched down with his back to them, staring at the floor. Chief sighed.

"I'll let you know if anything changes," she announced. "'Til then, make yourselves at home."

"Thanks, Chief," Rinoa murmured. The woman nodded, then headed toward another part of the house.

Squall quirked an eyebrow. "Chief?" he demanded after the woman had left ear-shot. Rinoa grinned.

"She's the leader of the Forest Fox. Almost everyone is a resistance member in this town," she reminded him, then she chuckled. "But right now, we're the only ones that are really active." She sighed then, and sat down exhaustedly at the table. Angelo sat at her feet. "Let's stay here for a while," she suggested then.

No one contested her.

Seifer withstood the silent glares that shot his way from Pubes and Wuss for all of about two minutes before he muttered something about needing to take a piss before leaving the room. He fled to the small bathroom down the hall, closing the door behind him and locking it before he fell back against the wood paneling. His head thunked back heavily, eyes closing. Seifer sighed, hands lifting to scrub ineffectually at his face. Then he growled and slammed his head back against the door again, harder this time.

Shit, why did it have to be _her?_ Why did that freak-show have to go after Trepe instead of him? Was Hyne trying to teach him some cosmically fucked up lesson or something?

Quistis' words earlier that afternoon suddenly came back to haunt him, echoing hollowly in his head. _Their hearts may be in the right place but their reckless actions are only going to end up getting themselves killed, along with everyone else unfortunate enough to be caught along for the ride, _she had told him. _Even the best, most honorable intentions can't bring someone back from the dead._

Why did that bossy, pretentious little wench have to go and say such a thing? Why did she always have to be right? And why in the hell had he kissed her?

Seifer groaned soft and low, his legs slowly giving way and allowing him to slide down the door until he fell heavily onto the floor. He drew his knees up, head bowed, the heels of his hands pressing hard into his temples.

There hadn't been any one good, logical explanation for it. As soon as they'd entered the alley and the shadows there, they had been well out of sight from any passerby's or pursuers. There had been no need for him to kiss her, other than his uncontrollable desire to do so from the moment she'd strolled out of that train bathroom earlier. With her thick blonde hair cascading down her back like honey pouring from a pitcher and that toned, flat belly of hers driving him to distraction. Not to mention the fact that her nipples had drawn up into tight little buttons clearly visible beneath the clingy material of her peach top, hard enough to cut glass.

The breasts on a female were directly connected to her sensory receptors, the nipples would respond to any stimulation that was strong enough. Change in temperature could cause it, fear and anger as well. Desire was nearly their twin. Seifer couldn't stop staring, or thinking about those two little nubs responding to _him _that way. Just the thought had made him harder than a rock, and he'd only managed to fight off his baser urges for so long. Just until they'd reached that alley. Then he was bound and determined to exorcise her from his mind. He'd kiss her, she'd be piss-poor at it, he'd let her go and quip something funny and then that would be the end of it.

Hyne, but she had tasted so _good. _Warm and sweet and wholly addictive, like the headiest of Estharian wine. Quistis had been stiff and uncomfortable at first—hinting to the fact that she probably didn't have a whole lot of experience in kissing—but his little Ice Queen had thawed out right nicely under the right provocation. Even now he could still feel those small but full breasts of hers flattened into the wall of his chest, could feel the silky smooth skin of her thighs against his palms, the firm flesh of her ass in his hands. Seifer could remember with haunting clarity the way she'd responded so fully to him, her tiny hands fisting into his hair at the back of his head, her hips swiveling against his thrusts. The sound of her little whimpers and moans of need had shot down straight to his throbbing cock, making him _ache _with the need to be inside her.

And then when those two soldiers had suddenly interrupted them, for a moment Seifer had _actually_ contemplated murder just for the sheer pleasure of it. Because then he'd been forced to watch that soft look of desire on her flushed face slowly melt into one of shock and horror as she realized just what she'd been doing, and with whom. Her blue eyes had gone from soft violet to frosted diamond in seconds. No doubt she'd been fantasizing about _Squall_ manhandling her in order to get through the ordeal, and only then had she realized that she'd lowered herself to making out with the 'asshole' instead. When Quistis had tried to scoot away, Seifer had tightened his hold and made her stay. Made her acknowledge that _he _had turned her on that way. That it was him, _Seifer Almasy—_not Squall Leonhart—that had made her feel that good.

Then the soldiers had left, Seifer had accepted the pathetic futility of his actions and released her, finally. Turning away so she wouldn't see the pain and the humiliation in his eyes. He'd had to do something then—anything—or risk making a complete and total fool of himself. The idea of going after Deling had popped into his head as Seifer had ripped out his coat out of the suitcase and put it on. He'd then pursued the idea with a ferocity that surprised even him.

And now she was gone, to only Hyne knew where with whoever the hell that creature was in the black dress. And it was all his fault.

_This self-hate and recrimination solves nothing, little hatchling, _came Tiamat's normally thundering voice, now strangely soft and soothing.

Seifer had no answer for that, so didn't bother trying. He just continued to sit on the floor and wallow in his own anger and regrets. Tiamat sighed, then lent his support the only way he could—by being there for him, no matter what.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, the others watched silently as Seifer stalked from the room. As soon as he was out of ear-shot, Selphie turned to Rinoa.

"I still don't get it," she announced. "What did Seifer come here for?"

Rinoa sighed. "I think . . . he came to help us," she replied after a moment's hesitation. "The Forest Owls," she then clarified quickly, coloring slightly under Selphie's quirked brow. "I talked about it a lot with him," she insisted. Inwardly Squall was seething, even though he wasn't even really sure why their closeness would bother him. Of course, none of it showed on his face, as bland as ever. "So please," Rinoa was saying, "don't think too badly of him."

Squall just snorted under his breath, turning to stare sightlessly at some stupid painting or other on the wall. Don't think too badly of him? Whatever. Zell was right. There was definitely some history between those two, personal history. Best he not even get involved. It was just too bad Squall was apparently leg-shackled to the inept female for what was now a completely indiscernible amount of time. He'd have liked nothing better than to put as much distance between them as possible.

Rinoa got to him, when no one else could. And that was too dangerous to be tolerated.

All of a sudden there was a fierce banging on the door. Everyone in the kitchen tensed. Squall's hand went to the handle of his gunblade. Selphie gripped one of the ends of her nunchaku. Zell slowly stood, clenched fists at his sides, blue eyes narrowed. Seifer appeared from down the hallway, Hyperion already drawn and resting across his shoulders, green eyes like cold mirrors.

They all listened, tensed, at the sound of Chief answering the door.

"Anybody in here?" a strange voice suddenly roared.

"What is this?" Chief snarled back, still out of sight. "I have two small children in here! Don't do anything to frighten them!"

All of a sudden a young girl of about twelve to thirteen years suddenly rushed down the stairs, wearing a long-sleeved cream colored top and dark brown leggings, her mother's dark black hair cut in a slanting bob. She motioned with her hand.

"Upstairs!" she hissed softly. "Hurry!"

Everyone began filing for the stairs.

"Will she be ok?" Rinoa questioned fearfully. The girl grinned, waving away her worries.

"She'll be fine. The legend goes that my mother took down many soldiers with her strength, cooking and beauty."

Selphie began mounting the stairs, but snorted loudly. "That beauty part sure makes it sound like a legend."

The girl huffed indignantly while they hurried up the stairs as quickly and quietly as they could. The group soon found themselves in a small bedroom that looked like it housed two young males. Currently it's only other occupant was a black and white spotted cat, who lazed on the bed, tail lashing slowly up and down and eyeing Angelo distrustfully.

Selphie plopped down on the bed beside the cat. Rinoa crouched near-by, with Zell moving off to the corner of the room and kneeling down with his back to everyone again. Seifer moved to the back of the room and seemed to stare out the window. Squall closed the door behind them and sighed. Rinoa fiddled with her shoelaces for a moment, then raised her head.

"I wonder if she's ok?"

No one had to ask her to clarify who 'she' was. Seifer tensed, but after a moment he turned slightly.

"She got stuck on the train with me," he admitted, tone uncommonly bland. He stepped into the center of the room. "I was so pissed when I found out that so few SeeDs were dispatched here, I went AWOL and headed to Balamb to hop the first train to Timber. Trepe came to try and convince me not to go, and the train ended up leaving while she was still on board."

"What's going to happen to Instructor Trepe?" Selphie suddenly questioned. Squall frowned, his stare catching with Seifer's.

"She may already be dead," he pronounced flatly. Seifer's face darkened, eyes narrowing, but he didn't reply.

It was hard to argue with the truth. Rinoa scowled however.

"How can you be so casual?" she demanded, then she shook her head and stretched out one leg in front of her. "You never know . . . anything could happen."

Squall snorted, then outright chuckled at the blatant naiveté of that statement. Rinoa suddenly shot to her feet, bristling.

"What's so funny?!" she demanded, incensed. Then she gave him a glare. "You're terrible!" was her bitter assessment then.

Squall didn't reply. Seifer turned back for the window and Selphie suddenly plopped back onto the bed. The cat tensed and _meowed, _but otherwise didn't move. There was a brief moment of silence, then the chipper brunette suddenly sat back up again.

"So . . . why do you think Quistis may already be dead?" Squall turned to her, then shrugged.

_Because . . ."_ The president of Galbadia and the sorceress joined forces," he replied in his usual no-nonsense, flat tone. "When Seifer attacked the president, Quistis was with him. It's no surprise that Quistis may have been killed because of it."

Rinoa suddenly stalked toward him, dark eyes burning for some reason he couldn't fathom. "Even so!" she cried, as if she were arguing the truth. "I still hope she's alive!"

Squall just turned away. _Think what you want, _he sneered inwardly. _Reality isn't so kind. Everything doesn't work out the way you want it to. That's why . . . _"As long as you don't get your hopes up," he suddenly announced, "you can take anything. You feel less pain." He turned back, his blue eyes settling on her wide brown ones. "Anyway, whatever you wish is none of my business."

Rinoa just stared at him for a moment, then scowled. "You're mean," she suddenly pronounced, then spun on her heel and stalked back to the corner of the bed. She plopped down, glaring at him still. "_Meany!" _

Squall's brows furrowed, and he shook his head. _What's with her . . . ?_ Then he snorted and sneered, "sorry."

They all lapsed into an uncomfortable silence then for several minutes. When the door suddenly opened Squall and Seifer both had their gunblades drawn and pointed to Chief when she entered. She hesitated a moment, then relaxed when both teens lowered their weapons again with identical sighs of relief.

"They're gone, for now," she announced. "I don't think they'll be coming back. Intel is on the street that—with the president and his ambassador out of town—the Galbadian forces are in the process of withdrawing. Should be all cleared out by morning. You all are more than welcome to stay until then, bed down wherever you can find a space. Then, if you're gonna leave town, first light'd be your best bet."

"We appreciate it," Squall thanked her, genuinely grateful for the woman's generosity.

"Not a problem, hon. You all can take turns in the upstairs bathroom. I'll go see if I can't rustle up something decent for supper."

Two hours later the five of them were all gathered in the kitchen, Chief standing at the stove and putting up the leftovers of the massive feast she'd managed to scrounge up. Clean, bellies sated and relatively safe for now, much of the tension had left the group. Zell was still silent, and Rinoa was now sharing his attitude—glaring every now and then in Squall's direction however. Selphie had mentioned more than once her desire to go home—in a high-pitched whine that only Selphie could manage.

Chief sighed as she put the last of her blackberry cobbler into the fridge, then she turned back to Squall and raised her brow.

"So what's your plan?" she questioned. Squall was slightly taken aback, wondering why she would ask him. It wasn't as if he was the leader or anything.

"Yeah Pubes," Seifer suddenly demanded from where he was leaning back in his chair on the other side of the table opposite Squall, arms crossed behind his head. "Any bright ideas on where we should go from here?"

_We have to get out of here first, _he mused bitterly. As if he'd read his mind, Seifer sneered.

"Getting the hell outta here is only the first step."

Squall twitched an eyebrow, arms crossing. "Why do you say that?"

The others watched them argue, heads swiveling back and forth.

Seifer smirked. "Garden code," he recited, "Article 8, Section 7."

Squall glanced away, brow furrowing in thought. _8:7 . . . In the event that returning to the assigned Garden is not possible, return to the nearest Garden . . . _He felt his eyebrows raise in surprise, stunned that Seifer had remembered that so readily. Then again, Squall shouldn't have been so shocked. Almasy had always been one of the smartest in the class—and not just because he'd been forced to repeat it three times.

He _knew _the material, the trick was getting the arrogant prick to cooperate long enough to prove it.

"Return to the nearest Garden," Squall finally admitted after a moment, and Seifer chuckled.

"Ding, ding, ding," he sneered. "And Puberty Boy gets a prize." He let his chair fall down onto all four legs with a sigh. "From here, the closest would be Galbadia Garden."

Rinoa lifted her head, then offered her first words in several hours. "We can take a train from here and get off at a station called East Academy."

Seifer nodded, and their familiarity became very apparent with how easily the two bounced ideas off one another. Squall was inordinately annoyed by the byplay, even though it pissed him off to admit it, even to himself.

"From EA, we'll have to go through a forest west of the station to get to Galbadia Garden. Never been there myself, but I don't think we should have any trouble getting asylum there. S'pretty standard procedure."

Squall nodded, forcing himself to turn a blind eye to the undercurrents passing between Rinoa and Almasy. "Ok then," he heaved. "We'll escape from Timber and head to Galbadia Garden. We'll set out first thing in the morning." He got to his feet. "For now everyone should get as much rest as they can."

"Ok, girls upstairs!" Chief suddenly proclaimed, her tone broking no argument. "Boys, you're bunking down here on the couches."


	15. Chapter 14 : Galbadia Garden or Bust

**Chapter Fourteen**

_Galbadia Garden or Bust_

The next morning the group prepared to leave just as the sun was beginning to rise over the rooftops. Chief stood near the door, waving them past.

"You be careful now," she murmured. The group started to file out, but she caught Seifer's arm before he could pass. "Here take this." She handed him a small leather case. Seifer opened it to find a few Potions, some Remedies, an Antidote or two, an injection of Soft—a cocktail of muscle relaxants able to counteract paralyzation—and even a few vials of Phoenix Down inside. All in all it'd make a nice replacement to the supplies he'd been forced to sell off to get a train ticket here. He closed it again and gave her a smirk.

"Thanks," he murmured, then stuffed the case in his coat pocket before following after the others.

They regrouped outside and had just started to head out when all of a sudden a Galbadian soldier—a somewhat short, pudgy one—ran up to them. Everyone but Squall, Seifer and Angelo fell into fighting stances, as apparently an itch on his rump was more important to the dog.

"Not good," Zell growled.

The soldier quickly raised his arms and waved them. "It's me, sir! It's me!" he cried, and by that it became obvious that the soldier was in fact Watts in disguise. "Got some info sir," he pronounced when they all relaxed accordingly. "Timber station will be shut down temporarily."

Selphie whined, stomping her foot. "Mega-bummer!"

Watts shook his head, grinning beneath his Galbadian helmet. "Not necessarily, sir. It's not completely shut down yet. The last train out of here is bound for East Academy."

Squall scowled, features set. "We're getting on that train," he pronounced. He turned and started to move off.

Watts turned to Rinoa. "You're going too, right Rinoa?" he questioned, tone heavy. She sighed.

"Yeah. What about you, Watts?" He shrugged.

"No need to worry 'bout me, I'll go gather more info." She smiled sadly, taking a step toward him.

"I promise I'll be back," she vowed. "You take care, ok?"

Watts turned to Squall and Seifer. "Squall, Seifer, please take care of Rinoa," he murmured, tone almost reverent. Seifer just nodded while Squall sighed heavily.

"Yeah, don't worry," he heaved. "Client's orders."

Watts completely missed the byplay of that statement, nodding eagerly . "Thank you sir! 'Til we meet again, sir!"

Rinoa hung back as Watts ran off in the other direction, fingers covering her mouth, eyes troubled. Eventually from a whine from Angelo she finally turned and hurried after the others, who had already begun toward the train station. What little remained of Galbadia's military presence in town didn't bother questioning them or chasing them down, too busy with other worries apparently.

As they reached the entrance to the train station, an older gentleman with a thick gray mustache—wearing a long-sleeved gray shirt, baggy green pants, suspenders and a matching golf hat pulled low on his head—suddenly waved them down.

"Rinoa!" he called. "Seifer! It's me!"

Rinoa scowled, stepping closer, then gasped. "Zone!"

He reached into his shirt. "You need to go to East Academy right? There's no more tickets left."

Selphie stomped her foot again. "Super-duper-mega-bummer!" Squall just shot her a look, then sighed.

"We'll do whatever it takes to get on that train."

"Just stuff these two motor-mouths on board," Seifer sneered. "They'll chase everyone else back off in no time."

Zell and Selphie gave the tall blonde dirty looks but he ignored them. Zone just laughed.

"You won't have to do that," he assured, then pulled his hand out and produced several slips. "Looky here!" he crowed, to everyone's stunned disbelief. "I have everyone's tickets right here!" He handed one to Rinoa. "One for you," he murmured. Then he moved to Squall. "Three for you SeeD people," he continued. "Here, I'll give them to the leader," and then did so.

Selphie made a face behind him, mouthing the words _SeeD people? _as if he'd just called her a slug. Zone either didn't notice or didn't acknowledge it. He went to stand in front of Seifer, who quirked a brow. "The last one is for me . . ." Zone sighed, then held it out to Seifer. "Go on, take it."

Seifer met his gaze steadily, shaking his head.

"I can't take that, Z. That's your ticket, man."

Zone suddenly grabbed at his stomach and hunched. "Ouch!" He shoved the ticket into Seifer's hand, then spun around and stumbled a few steps away, falling into a crouch and cradling his middle. "Just get going!" he cried, voice muffled. "The train's leaving!"

Seifer stared at the ticket stub in his hand, then sighed and turned his gaze back to a prone Zone. "Thanks, Z," he intoned heavily. "I owe you one."

Rinoa moved to stand beside him. "Zone . . . we're gonna see each other again, ok? No matter what, you have to survive," she exclaimed, voice shaking with conviction. Then she forced a smile. "We have to liberate Timber together, remember?"

Zone winced, but nodded through his phantom pain. "I know, I know," he heaved. "I'll go hide in a bathroom or something." He motioned. "Now get going."

The group headed into the train station and made their way through the press. Overhead the PA system sounded out in the cavernous room; "_This train, bound for Dollet, is stopping in East Academy. This is the last train for today. Please hurry on board." _

The five of them wasted no time in boarding the waiting train. Zell move to the rear of the train near the window while Selphie bounced right up to the door leading into the SeeD car. Rinoa and Seifer stopped near the center and Squall pulled up the rear, the door shutting behind him.

"_This train, bound for East Academy, will depart shortly," _the train's intercom suddenly buzzed.

Squall sighed. "Well we—,"

Selphie began hopping in place. "Open, open, _open!" _

"—made it," he finished grimly, turning to glare at her back while Seifer snickered and Rinoa shook her head.

Selphie turned her pleading gaze toward the bland-faced leader. "Please!" she whined. "Open up!"

_Better let her have her way, _he decided with a roll of his eyes, accepting the fact that she wasn't going to shut up or leave it be until he opened the door for her. He stepped over to the console, punching in the appropriate code. His ID check was confirmed, and access was granted with a cheery bleep. Selphie grinned.

"Tee-hee!" she giggled. "Thanks!" Then she ran off into the other car. Soon enough they could hear her singing again, that same sad train-inspired lullaby.

"Well, we pulled through that by the skin of our teeth," Squall intoned after a moment.

"Yeah," Seifer heaved with a smirk. "Who would've guessed Zone and Watts would've pulled through like that? Great guys," he sighed, "but not always the most competent." Rinoa chuckled.

"Zone's into naughty magazines, if you want to repay him," she announced. Seifer winced.

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me," he growled, and she openly laughed at that.

Neither noticed Squall turning his back on them and glaring off moodily out the window. Zell slumped, obviously depressed, but no one bothered him. The rest of the train ride passed in relative silence.

An hour later they were disembarking at the East Academy station. The five of them hoofed it into the woods near-by, and Seifer estimated about another two-hour march through the heavily forested canyon before they'd emerge out the other side. The trek was passed mostly in silence as well. They stopped for a break a little over half way through. Seifer sighed heavily, wiping the sweat from his brow onto the sleeve of his coat.

"We're not too far from Galbadia Garden, now," he murmured.

Selphie stretched out her legs with a wince, then turned to Squall.

"Heeey, I was just thinking," she called. "There might be some bad news from the Galbadian government. What if we get caught and then get broadcast to the whole world!"

Zell turned to her, expression thunderous. It seemed all the silent brooding he'd been doing since yesterday was about to blow out. Sure enough, he fisted his hands and growled.

"Whatever happens, happens," he snarled. Selphie blinked, slightly taken aback. Zell turned away, jaw firming. "Now come on," he insisted. "Let's just keep going. I . . ." he slumped then with a heavy sigh. "I'm worried about Balamb Garden. If anything happens to Garden, it's all my fault." He lifted his tortured eyes to the group, meeting Seifer's sneering gaze and Squall's apathetic one. "I'm the one who said we were all from Garden." He swallowed with some difficulty. "Do you think the president will retaliate on Garden?"

"Maybe," Squall murmured. Seifer scoffed.

"More like, definitely," he snapped. Instead of growing angry—as he would've normally reacted—Zell grew even more despondent.

"Figures," he murmured miserably. Then he suddenly stepped forward and grabbed Squall's arm, expression desperate.

"B-B-But, we have a bunch of SeeDs at Balamb Garden! They wouldn't lose to the Galbadian army, would they?"

Squall made a face, pulling his arm out of Zell's grasp. "Depends on how strong the army is," he replied then, tone set upon.

"And how many ground-to-air missiles they fire at it," Seifer seconded, heartless. Zell finally turned on him then, looking suspiciously close to tears.

"Shut the fuck up, Almasy!" he snarled, tone unsteady. "You don't have any room to criticize me!"

"Why the hell not?" Seifer shot back, arms crossed. "_You're_ the one who couldn't keep your big mouth shut. If Garden gets leveled, it _will _be your fault."

"And you're the one who just couldn't stay where you were supposed to be and leave well enough alone!" Zell screamed back, and Seifer tensed as the martial-artist began hitting a little too close to a few fresh wounds still striping his soul. "You and your big badass ego just couldn't _stomach _the thought of someone else getting any of the glory, could you! It's _your _fault I was even in that stupid TV station in the first place. I wouldn't have said anything about Garden if it hadn't been for you! Just like it's _your _fault Instructor Trepe got captured, and probably killed!"

"One more word, you little bastard, and I'm going to gut you like a fish," Seifer snarled, hand grabbing the handle of Hyperion.

"_Enough!" _Rinoa suddenly yelled out. She stomped forward and placed herself in between the two volatile blonds, hands on their chests and doing her best to shove them back. It wasn't working too well, however. She was no where big or strong enough to move those two unless they wanted to be moved. She turned to Squall—who had been standing by watching the scene unfold silently—and shot him a dirty look.

"Oh you're just a great leader, aren't you," she sneered.

Squall rolled his eyes, scowling. _Not again. _

"Do you actually have fun acting so callous toward your comrades?" she continued bitterly and he sighed.

_I knew it was going to be something like that._

"Two of your friends are about to tear each others' heads off, and you're just standing there staring at them, that bored look on your face as if you were watching a Triple Triad game!" She stepped from in-between Zell and Seifer—who had paused in their own argument to watch Squall's upbraiding—and marched right up to the brunette, her finger jabbing in his chest.

"Zell needed your support, and so does Seifer. Any kind of encouragement will make—,"

Squall scowled down at her finger jabbing into his front, then turned to stare at a rock just over her shoulder, tuning her out. _That's just to ease your mind, _he thought to himself. _Am I the only one who thinks that? _

Squall was forced to bring his attention back to Rinoa when she suddenly smacked him in the arm. His eyes shot back to hers and she gave him a hateful glare. "Don't you ever worry about or even _think _about the well-being of your comrades!?"

_I don't believe in relying on others, _he answered silently, his eyes narrowing.

"Don't you understand?" she nearly shrieked, apparently attempting to get a reaction—any reaction—from him. Squall's face remained as impassive as ever.

_Whatever._

Rinoa was coming the closest she'd ever had to hitting someone just for the fun of it. She felt like screaming at the top of her lungs or pulling her hair out by the roots. What, was this guy a friggin' machine?!

He just stood there, staring at her with those flat steel-blue eyes of his, his face expressionless. Blank. His wispy brown hair sifted around his head with the slight breeze blowing, but that was the only movement he allowed. She might as well have been pleading with a statue. Squall Leonhart was probably one of the most attractive men Rinoa had ever seen; tall but not _too _tall, his 5'8" frame toned with mouth-watering slabs of muscle due to his mercenary training and with a perpetually sulky, heavy-lidded-bedroom-eyes face that made anyone with more estrogen in their bodies than testosterone sit up and take notice.

It was just too bad that he had all the emotional softness of a rock.

"Are you even _listening _to me, Squall?!" she demanded then, tone going shrill.

Something flickered behind those two mirror-like eyes, and he opened his mouth to say something finally. And then all of a sudden his face went pale. Rinoa blinked, confused and startled when Squall suddenly grunted with pain and then hunched over, grabbing at his head.

"Squall?" she called tentatively, wondering with baited breath if she'd caused him to have a brain aneurism or something.

Squall didn't appear to hear her. Instead he hit his knees, and then collapsed completely at her feet, face down. "Oh Hyne," Rinoa breathed, horrified. Had she killed him?

"What the . . ," she turned to see Seifer cradling his skull as well, and then he fell back into the bushes near-by with a crash. And then Selphie began tottering.

"M-Me too . . ." she murmured, and then she fell to the ground, too. Zell quickly darted over to check on her, then sat up, eyes wide. Rinoa had crouched near Squall's head, and felt tentatively for a pulse in his neck. She nearly fell over with relief when she felt one, strong and healthy. Yet he lay completely prone on the ground . . . as if he'd passed out. Or fell asleep.

"What's going on?!" she demanded of Zell. He had sat back on his rear in the grass and sighed.

"I think . . . they went into the dream world."

"Dream world?"

In the hour that followed, Zell filled her in on the strange phenomenon that had occurred on the train yesterday morning and the shared dream that they'd had. He told her all about Laguna, Kiros and Ward and everything about their misadventures outside of a war-torn Timber to their brief visit to the capital of Galbadia.

Rinoa was silent throughout the tale, biting her lip. She was especially disturbed by it, more so than Zell. Not because they had all shared a dream about the same people, but because she knew one of the "characters" in the dream quite intimately. The famous pianist and singer of Deling City, Julia Heartilly, was her mother. Rinoa had never met her—Julia had died in giving birth to her—but she knew a great deal about the song that Zell spoke of. A beautifully poignant melody that had gone on to become her mother's greatest hit, _Eyes on Me, _written in tribute to a man her mother had had an unrequited love for. And now Rinoa knew the name of that man, apparently.

_Laguna Loire . . . I wonder why that name sounds so familiar . . . ._

Rinoa shrugged. Now that she knew the connection to he and her mother, she must've seen the name somewhere in her mother's writings. Julia had kept a daily journal throughout her entire life, and her father had kept those journals after her death. Reading them had been the only way young Rinoa had had of connecting with the beautiful woman who had given birth to her. They were her greatest treasure.

Just as the sun began nearing high noon, the others slowly began to stir and come awake. Zell stopped in his pacing, and both he and Rinoa watched eagerly as the other three sat up with groans.

"Was it Laguna again?" Zell questioned. Selphie nodded, eyes wide.

"Sir Laguna's in _big trouble!"_ she exclaimed, then she sighed. "I hope he'll be ok . . ."

Seifer held his head in one hand and leveled the other three with a dark look. "Doesn't look like this is the first time for you all," he muttered. "Just what in the hell is this?"

Rinoa almost opened her mouth and told them what she knew, but changed her mind at the last minute and held her peace. The others turned to Squall, who got up off the ground and sighed, brushing the dirt and leaves from his clothes.

"We'll just be wasting our time trying to figure it out," was his response. He straightened and fixed them all with a stern, bland stare. "Let's keep going."

Zell was all for that. He turned forward and motioned. "Yeah, let's go! I think we're almost there! While you guys were out of it, I could've sworn I heard drills being yelled out in the distance."

Seifer levered himself up with a wince, and Selphie got to her feet with her own painful grumbles. The others started forward. Rinoa hung back, eyeing Squall and biting her lip. This past hour had been plenty of enough time for her to forget her anger and start to feel extremely guilty for yelling at him as she'd had. A guilt which was only compounded by how he'd collapsed shortly afterward. Squall just stared down at her, as expressionless as always.

"Um . . . Squall?" she called, wringing her hands. "I think I might have said too much. I'm sorry."

The attractive male just rolled his eyes, then sighed and shrugged before turning and walking after the others. Rinoa stared after him, jaw firming and eyes narrowing with sudden determination. _One of these days, Squall Leonhart, I'm going to get you to open up and actually show me some real, human emotion, _she vowed to herself. _One way, or another. _


	16. Chapter 15 : Snipers and Assassinations

_**Author's Note – **It's probably not been very apparent so far, but Zell is actually my favorite character in Final Fantasy 8, second being Seifer. I'm rather excited about this chapter, as I finally get a chance to focus a little on my blonde hot-head and his feelings about things in this one, and look things from his POV. Just to warn you as well, events happen a little out of order in this chapter than from what they do in the game, but the end is still the same. As always, enjoy! (PS : Not that it matters much, but I listened to Hinder's "Better than Me" on loop while I wrote Zell's part of this chapter. Most of the lyrics don't really fit, but the general idea of the chorus does, and the overall mood is very fitting for his thoughts at this point in the story. Just in case anyone's interested. Do a search on AOLMusic or YouTube if you wanna hear it, it's a great song, IMO. )_

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

_Snipers and Assassinations_

The group began walking up the front walk of the massive orange-colored Galbadia Garden everyone—but Squall—with disbelief and awe reflecting on their faces. The atmosphere was completely different from the more scholastic, laid-back Balamb Garden. Here, the air was filled with militaristic shouts, everyone dressed smartly in uniform with no street clothes visible.

Selphie ran ahead and led the way up to the front gates.

"Wow . . ." she breathed. "Completely different . . ."

The others arrived behind her.

"Sure is quiet," Zell observed then. Seifer grunted his agreement, staring up at the men in hovering MECH-suits doing drills above. Squall put a hand to his hip and smirked.

" . . . I like it." Seifer snorted.

_He would. _

"Well," Pubes continued, "I better go find the headmaster and explain our situation." He started through the gate, then turned back, eyebrow raised. "The rest of you _try_ to stay out of trouble until you're called."

Rinoa huffed and crossed her arms, offended. Zell growled and clenched his fist, Seifer flashed Squall a universal fuck-off gesture and Selphie settled for bracing her hands on her hips and giving the bland-faced teen a raspberry.

Seifer, Rinoa, Zell and Selphie followed Squall into the Garden building at a slower pace, and hesitated in the main receiving hall while he continued off down a hallway.

"Well, who else is up for breaking something or getting into a fight just to piss off Pubes?" Seifer suddenly quipped. Rinoa and Selphie snickered. Before he could make good on that idea however, another voice suddenly yelled out.

"Seifer! Hey!"

They all turned and Seifer's eyebrows rose at the sight of a familiar face. Alana Vesper, the shy librarian he'd teamed up with yesterday morning—Hyne was it only yesterday morning, it felt like an eternity—suddenly ran up to him from down another hallway. She gave him a grin, her black pig-tail swinging with each step. Alana was dressed today in a loose black denim skirt and a red t-shirt this time that read 'STOP WHEN FLASHING (You Wouldn't Want To Miss This)' in black lettering, a black cropped jacket on over it.

"Hey, Lani," he returned her greeting, eyebrow raised.

No one noticed Zell near the back of the group, who suddenly looked as though he'd swallowed his own tongue. His expression was a strange mix of pleasure, anger and fear, his face going pale and then flushing a dark ruddy red. Alana glanced his way and—strangely enough—her cheeks became a little more pink as well.

"Oh . . . h-hi Zell. I-I didn't . . . I didn't see you . . . at first."

Seifer's eyebrow quirked. Zell just shrugged however, mumbling something incoherent before he suddenly turned on his heel and then pelted off. Rinoa and Selphie both exchanged glances, highly confused. Seifer just rolled his eyes.

_What a wuss. _

"What're you doing here in Galbadia?" he questioned then. Alana sighed, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jacket.

"I had promised the head of the Library Committee here last month that I'd stop by and help him reorganize his shelving system. I was on my way out of Balamb when Headmaster Cid approached me and asked me to deliver Squall and his team their new orders." she shrugged. "I was supposed to go to Timber, but the trains were all stopped, so I just came here instead."

"New orders?" Selphie questioned, but Alana shook her head.

"I dunno what the orders were, exactly. I just delivered the envelope to Headmaster Martine here, when I couldn't get to Timber. Cid's orders." She grinned, then. "S'kinda weird luck that you guys came here too."

"Balamb's ok, though?" Seifer questioned. Alana shrugged.

"As far as I know. Not really sure though," she admitted. "The broadcast happened after I'd already left." Now she glanced over her shoulder, in the direction that Zell had disappeared. She bit her lip. "Is he . . . Is Zell okay?"

Seifer snorted rudely. Selphie gave him a glare, then turned to Alana and smiled.

"Zell's a little worried about Garden, but he's doing fine. My name's Selphie by the way, I don't think we've ever met. And this is Rinoa," the brunette added, motioning to the smiling female at her side. Alana took Selphie's proffered hand and shook, then did the same with Rinoa.

"Alana Vesper," she returned. "But you can call me Lani, most everyone does." She sighed. "Well, I've got to get back to the library. Lots of work to get done before I can go home." She clapped Seifer on the arm. "Good luck, you guys. It was nice meeting you!"

Alana turned on her heel and then began back down the way she'd come. Perhaps, by no coincidence, in the same direction that Zell had fled.

* * *

Zell glared down at the painfully polished tile floor now only inches away from his nose.

"How many times have I told you not to run in the hallways!" the militaristic instructor pacing back and forth in front of him roared angrily.

Sheesh. Only ten minutes in this new Garden and already Zell had managed to get himself in trouble. Who knew these people would be so anal? And over something so silly as running to your destination. Zell was currently laying belly down on the floor, feet to the wall, with three other students of this Garden in similar positions. Apparently they'd all been caught breaking the same rule. And now they were about to get their punishment for it.

"Give me some push-ups!" the instructor barked, then. "_Now!" _

Zell heaved a sigh, then raised up on his toes and braced his closed fists on the floor before pushing up effortlessly, elbows locking. Then he lowered himself back down, his chest brushing the floor. A moment later he repeated the process all over again. Push-ups were nothing new to Zell. He probably wouldn't even break a sweat with this. He burned through two to three hundred of these babies on a daily basis in his morning work out alone.

The mindless physical exertion helped him clear his mind of the chaos currently swirling around in it, however, and for that he was very grateful.

First there was his worry about Garden to contend with. Zell frowned. Hyne, how could he have been so _stupid! _Seifer was right to call him a moron. That'd had been his worst moment yet, blurting out their identities in front of such an influential figure as the President of Galbadia. Being angry at Seifer was no excuse. He was supposed to be better disciplined than that. When was he ever going to learn to control is stupid temper?! He was always getting himself into trouble like this, flying off the handle and opening his big mouth before he thought of the consequences. Now Garden could be in serious trouble, and if anyone got hurt . . . it would be all his fault.

Zell wasn't so sure he could live with that.

And secondly . . . there was Alana Vesper to think of. Zell swallowed the lump that tried to rise in his throat, his reps faltering slightly. Hyne . . . she was just as pretty as ever. Those glossy black curls, soft gray eyes and that deeply dimpled smile could drive him to utter distraction, and had—on several embarrassing occasions he didn't even want to think about right now. Zell had had a crush on Lani Vesper from the time he'd entered puberty about five years ago. He could never seem to work up the guts to say or do anything about it, though, no matter how he tried.

Lani was so smart, after all, a real genius who loved to read books and was equally good at math and with computers. She was the head of the Library Committee of Balamb Garden, after all, and had been for several years running. She had also graduated to SeeD when she was just sixteen, a full year ahead of him. Rumor had it that she was dating a guy five years older than her too, a real conceited piece of work named Dante Saven. The twenty-two year old SeeD was sure quick enough to brag about his conquests with Alana to anyone who'd listen to him. But Lani was intelligent, beautiful and already successful and worldly.

And Zell was . . . well, Zell. He stared down at his distorted reflection on the tile, morose. Just a thick-headed, muscle-bound, temperamental idiot, that's what he was. Couldn't solve anything unless it involved his fists. Wasn't good for much else. And now, what was worse, Seifer seemed to know Alana rather well, too, though couldn't help but wonder how. They didn't seem like they'd frequent the same places or circles of friends. Yet she had looked so happy running up to meet Almasy a moment ago.

She'd only noticed him as an after-thought.

Zell growled a little, his push-ups increasing slightly in speed.

"Hey, dude," the student next to him suddenly whispered. Zell glanced over and the guy gave him a crooked grin. "Know what? There's one good thing about doing push-ups . . ." The younger teen jerked his head to the side, then, drawing Zell's attention to the fact that someone was coming down the hall. The instructor had his back turned, so he didn't notice when the student and Zell himself stopped their push-ups in an upright position. Zell watched—flabbergasted—as none other than Lani began walking in their direction. She winced at the sight of him on the floor, gave him a tentative wave and a smile—probably out of pity—before moving past.

Zell was a little more preoccupied with the fact that the little prick next to him was taking full advantage of his position and leering up Lani's skirt, however. He scowled, then reached out and jerked one of the guy's wrists out from underneath him. Quicker than a blink Zell was back to doing his reps, so after the guy next to him fell forward on his face and broke his nose on the tile, the blonde looked as innocent as a lamb when the instructor whirled around to see what the commotion was all about.

Alana stopped and turned around, confused and startled as the kid began howling like a wimp and clutching at his now-bleeding nose. Zell scowled and forced himself to stare steadily at the floor, beginning on his reps triple time. So he completely missed the way her gray eyes lingered over him for much longer than was necessary before she finally turned her back reluctantly and continued on to the library.

Zell hesitated several minutes later when the PA suddenly sounded out in the hall.

"_Attention SeeD party from Balamb. Please assemble at the front gate." _

Zell hopped to his feet and—after receiving a stern glare from the instructor—he _walked _back out of the hall and through the main room, then outside to the gate. Seifer was already there, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. Rinoa sat on the same wall next to him, her legs swaying back and forth. Zell walked up near by but not close. Selphie jogged up next, humming to herself. Moments later Squall reappeared. He was as blank-faced as ever, his eyes giving nothing away. Zell felt his whole body tense. Geez, this guy must be an _ace _at Triple Triad. Talk about a card face.

"How'd it go?" Selphie demanded as soon as Squall stopped in front of them. He sighed.

"They understand our situation." He turned to Zell and smirked. "And Balamb Garden is safe."

Zell slumped, fists hanging, eyes closing with relief. _Oh, thank Hyne . . . _He lifted back up again, and frowned when Squall's smirk disappeared.

"The attack on the president in Timber was classified as an independent action. There was an official notice from the Galbadian government saying that Balamb Garden is not being held responsible."

Zell swallowed, glancing over at Seifer, who had not moved or said anything. The tall blonde's face was as blank as Squall's was, but there was just something about the way his emerald eyes glittered. Seifer, like Zell, had suspected what was to come next.

"So . . . Quistis is taking all the blame?"

Squall turned to stare at Seifer as well. "The trial's over," he announced grimly. "And the sentence has already been carried out."

Selphie and Rinoa gasped, stunned. Seifer's jaw tightened so hard Zell feared he was in danger of cracking his jaw. Not that he could blame him. Man, what a load of BS. Quistis hadn't even been the one behind the aggression against the president. What kind of government would just try and execute someone for a crime they didn't even commit, in less than a day?

"She was . . . executed?" Rinoa demanded, voice choked. Then she sighed, and turned to stare at Seifer, who still hadn't moved an inch. She put her hand on his arm, trying to give comfort Zell supposed, but Seifer didn't even twitch in her direction.

"So what do we do now?" Selphie questioned then, tone subdued. Squall sighed and turned back toward the Garden entrance.

"Now we wait. The Headmaster received orders from Headmaster Cid, intended for us. He's coming out to deliver them personally."

As the minutes ticked by, Zell began hopping in place and shadow-boxing. The repetitive motions helped to keep his mind clear, helped him not to dwell on things . . . most best left forgotten. It also helped him stave off the restless energy that always seemed to consume his body. Just when Zell thought this headmaster would never show up, all of a sudden he stopped in his punches when he heard a car approaching. The others turned as well.

"Oh, I think that's him," Rinoa exclaimed. She hopped off the barrier and then moved over to where the others—save Seifer—were lining up. "Just pretend I'm a SeeD too," she whispered to everyone. "It'll be less complicated that way."

The vehicle pulled to a stop in front of them and then a tall man with fair hair dressed smartly in black and gold military regalia got out. Everyone but Seifer saluted, with Rinoa glancing out of the corner of her eye to make sure she was doing it right. The former remained leaning against the wall, arms crossed, scowl heavy. The headmaster gave him a look for his insubordinate actions, but in the end opted to ignore Seifer and came in front of the others.

"Good day," he called, voice deep and authoritative. He began pacing before them. "I have official orders from Headmaster Cid addressed to you," he announced. "Following regulations, I have gone over these orders. After careful consideration of our options, we have decided to fully assist and cooperate with Headmaster Cid." He sighed. "Actually, we too, have been planning this for quite some time now. In order to stress the importance of this mission, I must first brief you on the current situation."

Martine stopped pacing and eyed them all critically. "At ease." They all relaxed into more normal stances, Zell doing so with a slight sigh. "You all know about the sorceress being appointed as the peace ambassador for the Galbadian government," the headmaster continued. "However, this ambassador thing is just a cover up. There will be no peace talks," he proclaimed grimly, "only threats. The sorceress creates fear among the people. Therefore, peace talks are impossible. Galbadia is planning to use this fear to negotiate favorable conditions for itself. It is clear that Galbadia's ultimate goal is world domination. Garden is no exception, either. It is a fact that the sorceress is planning to use this Garden as her base . . . ." Martine trailed off, then shook himself and continued sternly. "We have very few options available to us. We entrust world peace and the future to you."

Zell, Selphie, Squall and Rinoa all saluted once again at those words—and again Rinoa kept glancing over—and then they relaxed once more

Martine produced a large manila envelope."Details of the mission are enclosed in these official orders." He approached Squall and then handed it to him. Squall opened it and glanced inside. "Any questions?"

The moody teen lifted his gaze, eyebrow quirked but his expression unreadable. As usual. "The orders say by means of 'a sniper,'" he intoned, and Zell's curiosity became nearly rabid. "We have no one with that skill."

Martine waved away his worries. "Don't worry about it," the older man assured. "Let me introduce an elite sharp-shooter from Galbadia Garden." He turned to the right, staring off into the lawn near-by. "Kinneas!" Martine then roared. "Irvine Kinneas!"

Everyone turned to see the only person over in that direction. It was a male teen of about their age lounging on his back in the grass a ways a way, one leg crossed over the other, a black cowboy hat tipped low over his head and hiding his features. As they watched he lifted his fingerless-gloved-hand, pointer finger extended as a fat yellow butterfly fluttered past. It landed on his upraised finger for a moment before the teen suddenly made a shooting motion, causing the insect to fly away again.

Then the lanky male slowly got to his feet, picking up an impressively large rifle along the way that had lain at his side out of sight until now. His back was facing them at first, and all Zell could see was his black hat and the ends to a long, curly red ponytail that fell down nearly to his waist over the top of a dark brown, fur-lined duster. The male finally turned toward them after a slight, theatrical pause, lifting his gun and resting it on one shoulder as he flashed them all a sideways smirk. He had on a dark violet vest beneath his long coat—no shirt beneath it—and a pair of butter-soft brown leather pants that fit somewhat indecently snug to his long legs in Zell's somewhat sickened opinion.

The Kinneas fellow approached them and then made one pass in front of them, eyeing them all one by one. Zell glared into the guy's laughing teal-colored eyes. There was just something about the guy that rubbed him the wrong way. Kinneas finally came to a stop next to Rinoa and sighed, turning toward the headmaster—who had watched the whole performance with a bland scowl.

"This is Irvine Kinneas," he announced heavily. "He will be your sharp-shooter. Leave whenever you're ready." He turned on his heel then and began walking back toward his car. He hesitated before he got in, though, and turned to give them one last, hard look. "Failure is not an option."

Then he got inside and the car pulled away. As he did so, Kinneas suddenly raised his arm, fingers pointed like a gun, and then made a motion to shoot, murmuring, "_Bang!" _to himself.

Irvine stepped off to the left as Zell, Selphie and Rinoa surrounded Squall. Seifer remained where he had been leaning against the wall, silent.

"What's our next mission?" Selphie demanded.

Squall sighed. "Our mission . . . . This is no ordinary mission," he heaved. "It's a direct order from both Balamb and Galbadia Garden." He took a deep breath, then, "we're to . . . assassinate the sorceress." Zell gasped, eyes wide. The others fared no better. Only Irvine and Seifer remained unfazed. "We're to shoot her from afar," Squall continued, glancing in Kinneas' direction. "Kinneas will be our sharpshooter. We're to support Kinneas to our fullest. Should the sniper fail, we're to attack head on."

Irvine turned and grinned cockily at that, giving a mock salute. "Thanks for the support," he murmured arrogantly, "but I never miss my target."

Squall twitched an eyebrow at that, but didn't reply. Instead he turned to Almasy.

"Seifer—,"

"I'm going with you," he interrupted stonily. They locked gazes if not proverbial horns.

"You're not included in the mission parameters," Squall replied tonelessly. Seifer slowly straightened, his green eyes narrowing into furious slits. He stalked forward until he and Squall stood toe-to-toe, leaning down until their noses nearly touched.

"You tell me to tuck my tail and run back home to Balamb and I will _end _you, Puberty," he snarled in his face, point blank. Zell felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He'd never seen Seifer so angry before, not even earlier in the woods when they'd nearly had it out. There was something about him now, though. Something raw.

Squall said nothing, face a blank mask. Seifer suddenly reared away and made a slicing motion with his arm.

"Quistis is dead. She's _dead _Squall, and it's because of me. I may not be able to bring her back," he heaved, turning back and pinning his furious gaze on Squall again, "but I _will _be a part of her vengeance. I swear to Hyne, Squall, don't try to stop me. We don't want to go down that road."

Squall stared silently for several moments afterward. Long enough that Zell began to fidget, restless and edgy. Finally however the unofficial leader of the group nodded, once, then turned to the others.

Dismissing Seifer's outburst as if it had never happened. He also missed the way Seifer's shoulders slumped slightly with relief.

"Eliminate the sorceress," he announced, "that's our order. We're going to the capital of Galbadia, Deling City. There we'll meet up with General Caraway to go over the details of the plan." Zell blinked, brow furrowing at the way Rinoa and Seifer both jerked guiltily at the sound of the General's name. They exchanged a glance, but said nothing. Zell frowned, wondering just what that was all about. "Let's get going," Squall finished, motioning for everyone to head out.

Irvine stepped forward. "Well then . . . We'll need to choose the parties for the trip to Deling City. Best to travel in threes." He caught up Selphie and Rinoa before they had a chance to protest and tugged them aside, Selphie on his left and Rinoa on his right. Then he held his hands out at his side, expression cocky. "How's this?"

Squall frowned, then rolled his eyes.

_Yeah, whatever, _he thought inwardly, annoyed. Then he sighed before sneering, "have a good time."

Selphie and Rinoa both turned on him, expressions appalled. Even Irvine himself looked slightly surprised by how easily Squall had capitulated. Selphie stomped her foot, incensed.

"Are you being sarcastic?!" she demanded. Not waiting for an answer, she began hopping in place and supplied herself with her own. "You are aren't you!" She drew herself up then, expression haughty. "Well, fine then! We _will _have a good time!"

"We understand very well," Rinoa said then, and her flat, emotionless tone could've given Squall a run for his money. She turned back forward and then Squall jerked, surprised, when she suddenly reached out and then wrapped her arms around one of Kinneas', hugging it to her chest. "Come on, Mr. Kinneas," she exclaimed in a breathy, sexy purr. "Let's go!"

Squall felt his jaw drop, gaping like a complete and total loon. Seifer and Zell didn't fare much better. _H-hey . . ._

"Call me Irvine," Kinneas insisted after a moment of surprise, grinning. "I'm a pretty lucky guy. Hand in hand with two beautiful girls."

And then Selphie suddenly glomped onto his other arm, giggling flirtatiously. "Irvy Kinepoo!" she cooed. "I'll make you happy!" she exclaimed, and even Seifer's eyes widened at the blatant sexual double entendre that that statement implied, coming from _Selphie _of all people.

Squall scowled, then. Disgusted. _Did I say something terrible? Women, _he snorted to himself. _I don't understand them._

He winced when the area surrounding him suddenly dropped below zero, and his lungs burned.

_Indeed you do not, master, _Shiva answered coldly before she lapsed back into silence. Sheesh, he was getting it from all fronts all of a sudden!

Squall, Zell and Seifer all watched in silent disbelief as Irvine lead Rinoa and Selphie out of Garden. Then Seifer turned to Squall and popped him in the back of the head.

"Nice going, Pubes," he snapped, ignoring Squall's death glare that followed. "Now I get to travel to Deling City with the fuckin' sausage fest."

Zell snorted angrily. "Irvine Kinneas," he mumbled to himself, kicking ineffectually. "Loser!" he yelled out then, though Kinneas was long past being able to hear him. Then Zell suddenly turned back. "C'mon Squall! Let's get going! We have to get there before they do!" Then he immediately began jogging after the other three.

"Oh, grow up!" Seifer snapped, yet he and Squall both began after their shorter, tattooed companion.

They couldn't allow themselves to be beaten out by the cock-sure ladies' man. It was a matter of male pride, after all.


	17. Chapter 16 : Big City Nights

_**Author's Note - **Seifer and Squall might break a little out of character toward the end of this chapter--especially the latter--but it added so much to the dialogue that I couldn't resist. _

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

_Big City Nights_

The guys did indeed reach the East Galbadia Station first—thankfully their first paycheck had been deposited into their accounts, so that Squall was able to afford a ticket—and boarded the train. Unfortunately that left several minutes where they paced the car, wondering what the other three were doing that was taking so long. Squall went ahead and stepped over to the SeeD car access panel. Might as well open it now and get it over with, as Selphie was sure to demand it as soon as she stepped foot onboard.

A moment later the bouncy brunette in question hopped on board with a breathy sigh, completely ignoring Zell's suspicious glare. Rinoa entered next, followed by the long-legged cowboy. Only Seifer was taller than their newest member, by a couple of inches at best. Selphie went immediately for the door and laughed aloud when it opened readily for her. She turned to Squall and grinned, green eyes dancing.

"Hee! You caught on!" Then she went ahead and passed through, into the hallway beyond to take up her usual position near the windows no doubt. Back in the front car the PA suddenly came over the speakers.

"_This train, bound for Deling City, will be departing shortly."_

Rinoa burst into giggles as the train released it's breaks and started forward. At the others' confused glances she sighed. "This is the only train bound for Deling City, anyway." Zell and Irvine chuckled with her. Squall just rolled his eyes while Seifer looked more preoccupied with watching the scenery out of the small window on the far side of the car, arms crossed and expression brooding.

After a moment Irvine suddenly sighed wistfully. "Hmm . . ." he murmured as he strolled for the door leading into the SeeD car. "Perhaps it's fate . . ." And then after those cryptic words he stepped through, the door closing behind him. Zell and Rinoa exchanged a disbelieving glance, then they turned to Squall.

"So what do we do about _him?" _the blonde fighter demanded belligerently. Rinoa bit her lip.

"Um . . . he just kinda . . . went off. Shouldn't you go check on Selphie?"

Squall endured her pleading stare for another minute before he heaved an aggravated sigh and then stepped through the doors. Sure enough, he found Irvine standing near Selphie toward the other end of the car—the latter of which had braced herself up near the windows as usual. The redhead motioned grandly with his arms.

"Selphie," he purred in his slow-twanging drawl. "We're destined to be together!"

Selphie let out a shaky expulsion of breath. "Y-yeah right!" she laughed, still staring out the window. Irvine leaned down over her, a small grin on his face.

"A sigh of love?" he questioned. That made her whirl, pinning him with a glare—but a red-faced and highly flustered one.

"N-no!" she insisted, then whirled away again. Irvine just kept smiling, but lifted away finally and began back down the hall. He hesitated when he came to a frowning Squall who was now blocking the way. Irvine smirked again, tipping his hat.

"Pardon me," he murmured, then stepped past when Squall finally shifted his shoulder and allowed it. Squall waited until Kinneas had left the car before he neared Selphie. She was now staring hard out of the window, her cheeks a bright pink.

"My heart's pounding," she hissed, tone almost strangled. "What is this I'm feeling?"

Squall—completely misinterpreting the reason for her upset—shrugged. "It's an important mission," he attempted to console, somewhat awkwardly. "Get used to the pressure while you still can."

Selphie heaved another sigh and rolled her eyes over to him, pinning him with a look of disbelief mixed with exasperation, before she just sighed again and turned back to the windows. "How long 'til Deling City?" she questioned then, changing the subject entirely.

Squall checked his watch. "About an hour. It's not too far away." She nodded and—as she appeared to be just fine now—Squall decided his duty was done and then went back into the first car.

Only to find that randy cowboy pinning Rinoa to the side of the car. She half-yelped, half-giggled, then ducked under his arm and ran behind Seifer for protection.

"Rinoa!" the redhead called, sounding as if his heart were broken, even going so far to clutch at his chest with theatrical pain.

"Knock that the fuck off," Seifer finally growled, looking as unamused as Squall was himself. "We need your head in the game on this, Cowboy," the tall blonde continued. "Stop acting like a Grendel in rut and focus on the damn mission."

Irvine snorted, then straightened with a bitter sigh. "No one understands me," he heaved then. "Sharpshooters are loners by nature. We hone our instincts, pour our whole being into a single bullet." He emphasized the last by slamming one fist into his other hand with an audible crack. "The pressure of the moment," he continued. "An instant of tension . . . That's what . . . I have to face alone. It's not easy. So like . . . just do me a favor and let me be! You get my drift?"

Zell growled, then suddenly fell to a crouch, his fist slamming into the floor of the car. The whole _train _shook at the impact. Even Squall raised an eyebrow.

"_Er, there was no damage to the train from that, err, minor vibration," _the PA announced, the person on the other end sounding rather flustered. "_I . . . uh . . . I repeat, there was no damage to the train from that, uh, minor vibration."_

"Minor, hell," Squall muttered underneath his breath.

An hour later the train pulled to a stop in the busy metropolis of Deling City. The group disembarked from the train and headed through the thick crowds toward the exit of the station.

"_The train bound for the desert will be departing platform 1," _someone droned over the intercom. "_The train bound for the Garden, heading west, will be departing from platform 2. The train bound for Timber is currently out of service. Please stand behind the white line." _

They all got on the escalator leading up out of the underground station, and slowly the hustle and bustle and bright lights of Deling City came into view. Zell ran ahead, eyes the size of saucers. Selphie was right behind him. Rinoa didn't seem very fazed at all. In fact her expression was carefully shuttered, and Squall's suspicion rose another notch.

It seemed this was not the first time she had been to the capital of Galbadia. They stood for a moment, taking it in, then Seifer sighed. "We should get going," he heaved. Squall nodded.

"We're heading for Caraway's Mansion. It's in the government district." He paused until all eyes turned to him. He gave them all a stern look. "Remember, we're here as back-up from Galbadia Garden. Don't blow our cover."

Squall turned his back on Selphie's raspberry, beginning to lead the way down the street. _Is Laguna here now? _he suddenly wondered despite himself, then put the thought out of his mind with a scowl and a slight toss of his head.

"We can get to the government district if we hop on the number eight bus," Rinoa suddenly announced, trying overly hard to make her tone of voice bored and neutral. Squall turned to give her a silent stare and she fidgeted, then pointed to a near-by bus stop. "We can get on right over there."

Squall said nothing for now, just led the group over to the stop she indicated and then they all piled on. It was a fifteen minute drive from where they had been to the government district of the city. They all piled out again on a residential street to the side of the presidential residence, a huge mansion sprawling out in front of them. Squall sighed in staring at it.

_General Caraway is the head of the Galbadian army, _he mused. _Could this be a _coup d'état? _No . . ,_ he amended after a moment as they all began walking toward the front walk, being guarded by a single soldier. _I don't think he's out to overthrow the president. _He sneered. _More's the pity. _

Squall approached the guard first, the rest of the group fanning out behind him. The man in blue drew himself up and cleared his throat. "General Caraway's mansion is right through this gate," he announced, "but . . . I can't just let you walk in." Squall's eyes narrowed with annoyance.

"I believe he's been informed of our arrival," he returned dryly. The guard sighed.

"Yes indeed, but . . ." He shrugged. "I was ordered not to let you through until your skills have been tested."

"Oh you have got to be kidding me," Rinoa growled under her breath, sounding more than a little annoyed. Zell scoffed beside her.

"What the hell's he talkin' about?" the blonde demanded huffily. Squall's stare never wavered from that of the guard in front of him.

"Test our skills?" he repeated slowly. The guard nodded. Squall took a moment to breathe deeply, reminding himself sternly of their cover, before he let it out again in a heavy rush. "What does he want us to do?"

The guard straightened. "The Tomb of the Unknown King to the northeast," he pronounced. "All you have to do is go there. It's real simple but . . ." Now the guard chuckled. "You have to bring back proof that you were there. A code number."

"A code number," Squall parroted, his tone as dry as dust. Zell threw his hands up in the air.

"We came all the way out here for some stupid test of courage?" he growled. "Who does he think we are?"

"Shut it, wuss," Seifer snapped in warning, and Zell fell into a grumbling silence. The guard frowned at them.

"There are many students like yourself who wish to call on General Caraway. There was a student from Galbadia Garden just yesterday, in fact, who has yet to return from the Tomb of the Unknown King. It's located northeast of the city," he reminded them. "Your objective is to go to the tomb, look for traces of the lost student and return with his ID number." The man sighed then. "I don't recommend going in any farther than you have to. You may never make it back alive." He reached into his pocket and drew out a sheaf of laminated paper. "Anyway, here's a map for you."

Squall snatched the map out of the smirking guard's hand, then turned on his heel and left the area. As soon as they were out of sight and hearing, he turned back to the group.

"We have no choice but to play along," he announced heavily, "or risk blowing our cover as students from G-Garden." Zell groaned loudly, but a smack from Seifer had him hushing again. Irvine just shrugged lazily. Squall glanced down at his watch, then sighed. "It's too late to set out today. We'll spend the night at a hotel and head out in the morning."

Selphie leapt into the air, grinning. "Woo! Shopping spree!" Squall glared and she stuck her tongue out at him. "Well, what did you expect?! This is my first time in the city, and I've been wearing this same dress for three days," she announced gravely. "I _need _clothes."

Squall rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he intoned. "We're all checking into the hotel first, then you can do whatever the hell you want to until 6 tomorrow morning, as long as it doesn't give away our real mission."

Not surprisingly, Rinoa led the way through the twisting and turning streets, until they came to the huge Galbadian Hotel. Squall approached the front desk and ignored the somewhat insulting look the concierge gave him. "I need three doubles, two keys for each room."

"That will be two thousand Gil, sir," the man sneered. Squall pulled his SeeD Gil card from his back pocket and tossed it onto the counter. The man flustered a little, then took the card and ran it through. His shock at it getting accepted was visible. Squall gave him a tight smile as the wormy little bastard returned his card, then reached into the cabinet near by to fish out the keycards.

"For that price if I don't see mints on my fuckin' pillow or a mini-bar, I'm gonna be pissed," Seifer muttered, to which Rinoa and Selphie snickered.

Squall took the keys, then turned back to the others. He tossed Seifer a card. "Almasy, you're with me. Selphie and Rinoa," he then announced, handing them identical cards for another room, "you'll bunk together. And Zell, you're with Kinneas." He tossed the last two their keycards, ignoring Zell's horrified stare.

"Why do _I _have to sleep in the same room with _him?!" _

"Because you wouldn't know what to do in a room alone with a girl, Chicken-wuss," Seifer shot back, heading for the elevator that would lead up into the second floor where the rooms were. He turned around after he'd boarded, smirking. "You'd probably bust a nut just _thinkin' _about it."

Squall followed him onto the elevator, then turned back to flash the other four a rare smile.

"And I sure as hell am not listening to you snore all night long."

The doors closed behind them.

* * *

Back in the lobby, Irvine sighed heavily and eyed his new roommate distastefully. "Why do I get the suspicion that I've just gotten the raw end of this deal?"

The other three ignored him for the moment, instead exchanging wide-eyed stares.

"Yo . . . did anybody else just get a chill up their spine, or was it just me?"

"Yeah," Selphie breathed, shuddering. "They were, like . . . agreeing on something. And Squall was _smiling. _That was just _creepy." _

Rinoa just chuckled, then sighed. "Well, I'm all for a shopping spree Selphie, if you're ready?"

Selphie grinned. "Most definitely! I got 4000 Gil burning a hole through my card. Time to go hit that strip!"

Selphie tensed when the tall redhead turned to her, that quirky smile of his shooting straight to her belly and making it do crazy flip-flops. What _was _it with this guy? Selphie had only been teasing back outside of Garden, as Rinoa had, when they'd glomped onto his arms. Yet almost immediately the brunette had been assaulted by Irvine's warmth and his scent, a strange but heady mixture of male, leather and outdoors. It threw her off balance, and she still hadn't recovered completely. When he'd started to flirt with her on the train, she thought her heart was going to leap right out of her chest. Selphie had denied his advances then, and did her best to try and forget them. After all, he was nearly a full foot taller than she was, well near to six feet while she barely pushed 5'1½". The top of her head barely reached his collar bone. They were so totally wrong for each other it was ridiculous.

But why oh why did he have to be so darned good looking?! Those lazy, laughing teal blue eyes, slow-forming smile and that deep, drawling voice was effecting her like nothing else ever had before in her life.

"You ladies need any company?" he murmured softly. Selphie swallowed with some difficulty, then shrugged.

"I-I guess we could use a pack mule or two," she blurted. His eyebrow quirked under that black hat of his, then he grinned and tipped the thing to her with one finger.

"Well then, pack away, darlin'."

_Wooo-boy._

Rinoa took pity on her then and looped her arm through Selphie's, and began leading her back out of the hotel. "Ok guys, follow me. I know just the place."

Irvine similarly grabbed Zell by his jacket and propelled him out the automatic doors. "Wait, what!" the blonde sputtered. "Why do _I _have to come along?!"

An hour later both males were loaded down with bags, Zell eyeing the redhead with a death-glare while Rinoa and Selphie browsed racks. Two stores ago Selphie had traded her dirty yellow denim jumper for a pair of blue jean shorts and a bright yellow cream top, with short fluttery sleeves and a scalloped neckline. Both went rather well with her knee-high brown boots. She and Rinoa had forced Zell to trade in his equally soiled blue-jean shorts and t-shirt for a fresh pair of blue-jeans and a clean black muscle-shirt, though he retained his red and blue jacket.

_I don't like you thinking about that . . . that . . . human this way, _Phoenix suddenly complained in her mind, tone testy. Selphie giggled into the mini dress she'd been admiring.

_Aww, why not? _she teased her somewhat bi-polar GF playfully. Over the years she'd gotten used to his perpetual crankiness and sometimes strange way of shifting so suddenly from emotions. Right now it looked as if Phoenix was in the mood to be grouchy.

_He does not deserve you, _was her Guardian Force's lofty response. _I do not like his thoughts about you either. They are vulgar and crude in the extreme. _

Selphie's eyebrow rose, now very intrigued. _Oh really, _she murmured. _Just how 'vulgar and crude' are we talkin' here? _

_I refuse to repeat them, _Phoenix insisted stubbornly. Selphie just laughed.

They visited shop after shop, Irvine growing more teasing and flirtatious as the evening wore on. He was funny and outrageous and he really made her laugh—a trait that Selphie really liked in a guy. She smiled and flirted back, and let herself think maybe their height difference wasn't so terrible after all.

Maybe by the time she finally got back to Balamb Garden, she'd have a hunky new boyfriend to brag to her friends back in Trabia about. Liselle and Beccah were constantly on her case to hook up with someone. Selphie cast her eyes askance at Irvine as he leaned against the wall and grinned to herself. No, she didn't think Bec or Lissy would have much to complain about at all.

After a while they capitulated to Zell's whining and directed their steps to the weapon upgrade shop. They found Squall there already, testing the weight of a new, sleek silver gunblade in his hand. He nodded silently to Selphie's chipper greeting, then exited again, new weapon in tow.

Zell rushed forward right away and began haggling on the price of getting his gauntlets upgraded into a newer Maverick model.

Selphie eyed the Morning Star model nunchaku displayed in the glass case, tapping her chin in contemplation.

"Hmm . . . do I want those pair of new Blue Dragon hide boots, or a weapon upgrade?" she mused aloud. Rinoa stood at her side, admiring the Valkyrie model arm cannon. The brunette had to pause however as the girl at her side suddenly tensed. Frowning in confusion, Selphie glanced up at her—took note of Rinoa's uncomfortable expression—and then turned to see what the matter was.

And immediately wished she hadn't.

Irvine was standing just outside of the shop, smiling and laughing and _flirting_ with some blonde stranger with a low-cut top displaying breasts so large and perky they _had _to be plastic. Selphie felt her air-supply cut off for a second, feeling strangely crushed.

_I will spread his ashes to the four winds! _Phoenix vowed furiously. Selphie blinked, then swallowed and shook her head.

_Don't bother, Fee, _she soothed blandly. _He isn't worth it. He's just a flirt, big deal. _

She gave Rinoa's pitying stare an equally buoyant grin, hiding her hurt and her humiliation behind her ever-present cheerfulness.

"The weapon, I think," she decided then, turning to wave a clerk down. "_Definitely _the weapon," Selphie continued, doing her best not to picture herself shoving the nunchaku with the shiny, _sharp _star end up a certain smooth-talking cowboy's ass and failing miserably. The group collected their weapons, and then Selphie breezed out of the shop and right past where Irvine was sweet-talking the other girl, chin lifted and gaze cool. The lanky redhead stumbled out a hasty good-bye to his little floozy, then gave chase.

"Hey, hey, hey," he called, hurrying to catch up. "Selphie, darlin', what gives?" he demanded as she continued to walk briskly down the sidewalk back toward the hotel. She turned her head and shot him a sneering grin, steps never faltering.

"I dunno _Irvy-poo," _she cooed, "why don't you go ask your new friend back there? You know, the one with the fake boobs? I'm sure she can give you a few _pointers." _

Then she spun back and continued on her way. Rinoa settled for a withering glare before she followed. Irvine just stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. Zell snickered.

"Yo, man . . . you just got _burned," _the blonde snickered. Then he hitched up the bags in his arms and jogged after the girls.

Irvine scowled, then spun on his heel and stalked off into the night, expression thunderous. Who he was angry at—Selphie or himself—wasn't clear, however.

* * *

Squall deposited his new Shear Trigger gunblade in his hotel room, along with a couple of changes of clothes that he'd bought. Seifer was currently off to parts unknown—most likely the bar downstairs getting hammered if he knew the cranky blonde—so Squall peeled himself out of his grimy shirt and jeans. He winced with distaste, setting them aside to be laundered along with his jacket sometime tonight before heading into the bathroom to get a shower. It'd be nice to sleep in a real bed tonight. The recliner that Chief had loaned him the night before hadn't been very conductive to restful sleep.

Squall got a nice hot shower, dried off, then dressed in his new clean red t-shirt—the left shoulder emblazoned in a stylized roaring lion head that looked remarkably like his pendant—and a pair of heavy black jeans. He replaced his boots, then headed down to the dining area.

As soon as he entered the door Squall had to hesitate, swamped with an eerie feeling of déjà vu. It was just the same as when he'd visited as Laguna, nothing—if anything—had changed in the décor. The massive black grand piano that Julia Heartilly had played sat off to the left on a raised dais, the bar to the back right and several booths and tables stretching out before him. The room was full but not packed, a soft buzz of lulled conversation echoing throughout.

A hostess approached him with a practiced smile. "Hello sir, how many in your party?"

Squall glanced around the room. Selphie, Rinoa and Zell were seated at a booth near the piano, already in the middle of their dinner. Irvine was strangely absent. They were all laughing and talking boisterously together and Squall winced, in no mood for that kind of atmosphere. He kept looking, then spotted Seifer hunched over the bar, just where he'd figured he'd find him. Squall sighed.

"I think I'll just go over there to the bar with my friend," he announced, motioning. She glanced over, then nodded.

"Very good, sir. Enjoy your night. If there's anything we can do to make your stay more accommodating, just let us know."

Squall nodded to her trained spiel, then moved past. He sat down in a stool next to the tall blonde, who didn't lift his gaze from the glass of amber liquid in front of him. Winhill Whiskey if Squall guessed it right. Squall ordered something to eat and soda to drink, ignoring Seifer's snort.

"You're no use to me hung-over," he quipped laconically after the bartender had left.

"Blow me, Pubes," was Seifer's quick reply.

"Only in your sick, sick fantasies Almasy."

Seifer snorted, then chuckled. "Hot damn, you just cracked a joke," the blonde heaved, eyeing him and then shaking his head. "Man, I am _such _a bad influence on you."

Squall smirked around the rim of his glass of soda. "Probably," was his bland answer. Seifer didn't reply to that and they sat in an easy silence for several moments. Squall braced his arms on the cool wood, staring at the bottles and glasses lined up along the back wall. Surprisingly, he was the one that break the quiet. He sighed. "She wouldn't want you to blame yourself, Seifer," he finally announced at length, his voice neutral but steady with conviction. "She was a mercenary, same as us. She knew the risks of the job. You don't have to carry the guilt of her death."

Seifer tensed on the stool and was very still for a moment before he lifted his glass and kicked back what was left. "Don't start with that shit," he heaved, tone hoarse. "First off, you don't know a damn thing about what Trepe would or would not have wanted." He turned to fix him with a narrow glare. "You spent half your life ignoring her or doing your best to get the hell away from her, remember?"

Squall quirked a brow at those telling words. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear that Almasy was . . . jealous? Did he . . . _had_ he liked Quistis? Is that what this was all about?

"Secondly," Seifer continued bitterly, "you're the _last _person who should be preaching to me about emotional wellness. Butt the fuck out."

Squall turned back forward, taking a gulp of his drink. Okay, point to Almasy. He had to give him that one. They lapsed back into another silence—this one not quite as comfortable as the last—but Squall noticed that Seifer didn't order another whiskey, instead ordering a tall glass of water. No doubt to avoid the hangover Squall had mentioned earlier.

"You should think about upgrading your gunblade while we're here," he suggested after another moment. "The weapons customization shop here is pretty impressive."

Seifer shook his head. "Can't." Squall turned to give him a sneering look.

"Why? Too attached to that tired old piece of shit Hyperion model you've been swinging since adolescence?"

Seifer chuckled sarcastically. "Hyne, I've created a monster," he growled to the ceiling, then turned back and grinned at him nastily. "_No _smart-ass, I can't upgrade my blade because I lack the _funds_ necessary to buy the supplies and pay for the work." Squall blinked and Seifer sneered distastefully. "Not all of us are blessed with a high rank and equally fat paycheck, unfortunately. My Gil paid for these drinks and dinner, and that's about it."

Squall's eyebrow rose. "What rank are you?" Seifer turned back to his water, but lifted his hand and extended his pointer finger. Squall snorted, then out-in-out snickered. The pointer was exchanged for the middle finger, but he kept chuckling. Then he sighed and pulled out his card.

"I've got about twelve hundred left on that," he announced, tossing it onto the bar in front of the blonde. "Won't get you a weapon upgrade, but it'll pay for a couple changes of clothes."

Seifer glared. "I don't want your charity, Pubes."

"Good," Squall shot back, "because you'll be paying me back every Gil, I don't care how long it takes you to work it up on your sorry ass Rank 1 paycheck. I look at it as doing myself a favor," he finished, leaning down to the plate of food that had just been set down in front of him. "This way I don't have to _smell_ you."

Seifer sneered again, but finished off his water and got to his feet, grabbing the card on his way.

"Oh, and Almasy?" Squall called without looking back. "Go ahead and get yourself a new coat, too. It's about time that ratty gray piece of crap saw the inside of a dumpster."

"Knock the coat one more time, Pubes, and I really _will _have to kill you."


	18. Chapter 17 : Tomb of Big Wastes of Time

_**Author's Note - **Took a little liberty with the Brothers origins as well as Irvine's possible lineage in this chapter. Hope it's well-received. _

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

_Tomb of Big Wastes of Time_

The next morning the group met out in the lobby bright and early. Rinoa was yawning heavily and rubbing at her eyes—not used to getting up so early apparently—and Seifer also looked worse for wear—his eyes a little reddened and face haggard. The others were bright-eyed and fresh and ready to go. Irvine was strangely silent and subdued, but Squall shrugged, not really caring much what the cowboy may or may not be agonizing over.

He'd filled his 'caring quota' last night with Seifer.

"Let's go get this thing over with," Squall heaved before leading the way out. They left the city and then set out on foot, heading northeast. Any random monster encounters were dealt with swiftly and decisively—except for a couple of battles where Selphie insisted on drawing out a few new spells.

"You never know!" she had defended herself loftily.

Five and a half hours later they entered into a cobbled glade, man-made fountains and pools on either side of the large tomb entrance in front of them. The roof was covered in thick, lush greenery. It was an ancient place, and rather scenic Squall admitted to himself.

Rinoa was a little red-faced and out of breath as they approached, but the others were unfazed by the long trek thanks to their SeeD training. She gave them all an envious glare, but said nothing.

They neared the entrance, but stopped when two Galbadia Garden students suddenly ran out screaming.

"_F-Float!" _one of the girls gasped as they passed. They turned to watch them pass, then Selphie turned to Squall with a grin.

"Hah! Told yah! Good thing I stocked up off that Thrustaevis, eh? Eh?" Squall just waved her down, rolling his eyes.

"Hopefully we won't be in this place long enough to need them," was all he would allow before leading the way inside.

Immediately they were surrounded by the dark, dankness of the tomb. He stopped a moment to let their eyes adjust to the change, and realized after a moment that faint light was filtering in from above. He looked up and blinked, surprised. There was no roof, it was actually the thick greenery he'd seen outside. The walls and floor were made of stone—the former carved into long-worn-away mosaics—with small streams of fresh running water on either side. _Interesting. _

They started through the first few halls, sticking fairly close together. Sounds were muffled in here, until even the most innocent sigh of breath or rustle of clothing seemed to become ominous. Squall squinted down at the map as he led the way. "There are two long halls and then we're going to reach a section that leads in three other directions," he called softly.

Everyone stopped when Zell suddenly let out a loud curse. Squall turned with the rest to glare at the blonde, who colored guiltily.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Tripped on this piece of junk on the ground," he admitted, kicking something out from underneath him and causing it to clatter loudly back into the darkness behind them. "Didn't see it in the dark."

Squall rolled his eyes, then started forward again. They kept turning right at every section—using Rinoa's logic that they'd make one big circle and eventually end up back at the starting point—easily defeating the random Wendigo, Armadodo and Blobras that they came across along the way. Eventually they came to a passage that was different from the others. They started forward, and then came into a room with a huge minotaur statue. It was dressed in heavy metal armor, a large purple shield on it's right arm with a massive spiked mace in both hands.

"Whoa," Zell murmured. "Look at the size of that thing," he continued, stepping forward.

He yelped and they all jerked in surprise when the 'statue' suddenly moved. It waved it's massive arms and roared angrily.

"_GRRR!! WHO'S THERE?!!!"_

Then it launched itself at Zell, who only kept from getting smashed by that mace by his martial-arts training, allowing him to dive-roll out of the way at the very last minute. The huge weapon cratered the stone floor where Zell had been.

Seifer and Squall leapt in next. Squall's new gunblade shrieked in protest as it caught on the metal handle of that mace, blocking another down swing. Squall grit his teeth and grunted with the effort it took not to collapse under the massive creature's strength. Seifer swung out with Hyperion and caught the creature in the arm. All it did was piss it off, however. The thing roared again and swung around, catching Seifer in the chest with one arm and throwing him back. It shoved its mace and launched Squall back with the other. The two of them landed in a tangled heap several feet away.

Rinoa's Valkyrie canon pinged harmlessly off of the minotaur's large shield, and she quickly hopped back out of the way.

"It's automatically healing!" Irvine suddenly called from the back of the room where he'd been observing the action. "Selphie, cast Float on the damn thing! Get it off the ground!"

"Why?" she demanded.

"Just do it, dammit!"

Selphie stepped forward with a grumble and then cast her spell. The minotaur bellowed in anger as it lifted up off the ground, floating in the air ineffectually. Irvine lifted his Valiant model rifle and barely paused to take aim before firing. His shot caught the thing right in the chest, blasting an impressive hole. It roared again, this time in pain, before it fell back to the ground on it's knees.

"_THEY'RE PRETTY STRONG!" _it heaved, almost to itself, gasping and clutching at it's wound. Then it straightened and pinned Irvine with a narrow glare. "_BASTARDS!!! IT AIN'T OVER!!"_

And then with one last roar it suddenly leapt over the top of everyone and disappeared into the maze-like tomb beyond. The pillar it had stood on suddenly raised up with the loud grate of stone on stone and a cloud of dust.

"Ok," Seifer heaved after getting painfully to his feet. "Any guesses on what the fuck that was?"

"A rogue Guardian Force, I think," Squall answered, doing the same. "Probably junctioned to someone who died in this tomb. Maybe even the mysterious student we're after."

Zell sighed heavily, slumping. "So lemme guess," he groaned. "We gotta go chase after it."

Squall nodded. "It could lead us to the thing that supposedly has this kid's ID number on it. Let's go."

He started out, ignoring the groans and grumbles that lit up behind him. They kept to the right, and wandered around in the tomb for another half hour or so before eventually entering into a room lit brightly in sunlight. There was a massive opening with a stone barrier in front of it, holding back a river of water outside.

"Hey, can we rest for a minute?" Rinoa suddenly gasped, wiping at the sweat beading her brow. Squall glanced at her, then sighed and nodded.

She groaned with relief, then walked over and sat down heavily on the ledge in front of the stone slab. Rinoa used the bottom of the light blue top she was wearing to scrub away some of the sweat and grime from her face. Squall felt his face flush as—in doing so—she unwittingly revealed a lot of her flat, smooth belly and a hint of a matching powder blue bra. He stared hard before turning away with a start, swallowing thickly.

Only to lock eyes with Seifer, who was smirking at him in that annoyingly knowing way. Damn it.

"I swear to Hyne, you all are machines," Rinoa suddenly heaved. "None of you even look the least bit tired!"

"That's what you get from enduring PTs from the time you're prepubescent," Seifer replied easily. She quirked a brow.

"PTs?" she repeated blankly. It was Squall who answered, and he did his best to ignore everyone else's surprised glances while doing so.

"It's an acronym for Physical Training," he intoned. She blinked.

"Oh."

"Hey, I wonder what this chain is here for?" Selphie suddenly questioned from the back of the room.

Squall turned, but before he could even open his mouth to warn her not to touch anything Selphie gave the rusted iron links a jiggle. They gave away with a loud clank. Rinoa shrieked when the stone slab gave way behind her and a wall of water rushed into the channel, splashing up on the ledge she sat on and completely soaking her from head to toe. She shot up onto her feet, eyes wide, arms held out at her sides in disbelief and gasping with the cold.

Squall just stared stupidly at the way her thin top now plastered to her skin, nearly transparent and revealing that lacy blue confection she was wearing beneath it to full detail. It also did little to hide the way her nipples suddenly hardened to stiff little points with the sudden drop in her body temperature, too. Rinoa noticed that about the same time everyone else did, gasping again and crossing her arms over her chest, face flushing scarlet.

"Hyne, you're like a little five year old," Seifer snapped. "Just gotta touch everything, dontcha!"

"Ohmygosh!" Selphie cried, eyes wide, ignoring Seifer. "I am _soooo _sorry Rinoa! Are you ok?"

"Just a little soaked," she chuckled uncomfortably, her black hair now plastered to her forehead and neck, looking like ebony silk in the weak sunlight. "And cold," she added with a slight chatter to her teeth and a visible shiver.

Squall jerked when Seifer suddenly smacked him in the shoulder. "Don't be such an ass," he quipped, grinning. "Give the lady your jacket, Pubes."

Squall scowled back. "Why don't you give her _your_ coat?" he countered, tone annoyed. He _hated _to be teased, least of all by Seifer. "It'd cover more."

"What, and get my coat wet?" the blonde shot back with mock disgust, clutching the lapels of his worn gray apparel protectively.

Zell suddenly removed his red and blue jacket and held it out to her, revealing the fact that—out of all of the well-built males in the group—the shortest of them was also the most ripped. His chest and arms bulged with thick ropes of muscle beneath his sleeveless black shirt. "Here, 'noa," he offered with a friendly smile. "You can take mine. S'getting kinda hot in here anyways."

Both Squall and Seifer gave the martial-artist a narrow-eyed glare for different reasons as Rinoa accepted his gift with a gracious smile.

"_Thank you, _Zell," she murmured, shooting the other two a scowl. "At least _someone _is willing to be a gentleman."

She quickly shrugged into Zell's jacket, zipping it up, then wrung what moisture she could from her hair. Her dark blue skirt was wet as well, but would only be a little uncomfortable, not embarrassing.

"Hey, where'd Kinneas get off too?" Zell suddenly questioned, eyebrow raised. Squall glanced around with everyone else, only now realizing that the tall cowboy had disappeared out of the room. Before they could even think about raising an alarm, Irvine suddenly ducked back in, the barrel of Valiant resting on one shoulder.

"I think I spotted that overgrown cow high-tailin' it into the center of the tomb," he announced. "There's a little island in the center with the main chamber on it. We won't be able to get to it unless we find the controls to lower the drawbridge, though. Not unless the rest of you want to go swimming," he added the last, eyeing a drenched Rinoa with a quirked brow.

Squall pulled out the map and studied it. "By my calculations we should be in the chamber here at the top. There's only one other one, on the far left. If we keep going the way we're going, we should get there eventually. Bets are, the drawbridge controls will be there."

No one contested his logic, so Squall led the way through the passages until they came to the room in question. Sure enough the chamber had a large opening with an old style water wheel hooked up to several pulleys and ropes. It was currently locked in place, however. Squall stepped forward and released the catch, and the wheel immediately started turning with the power of the current outside.

They all heard a distant groan of long-unused gears and then a heavy crash. Zell grinned.

"Bingo, baby!"

The group finished the last leg of the tomb, circling around to one of the first rooms they'd entered. They turned left, now, and went straight through to the center of the tomb. True to Irvine's word, a long wooden drawbridge now crossed out over the massive rushing river outside to a small island with another smaller stone building covered in foliage. The group readied their weapons, then entered.

Sure enough, they found the minotaur inside, now standing atop a massive stone casket, completely healed.

"_Y-YO, YOU BACK AGAIN?!" _it hollered as they neared. "_TOOK IT EASY ON YOU LAST TIME BUT NOT THIS TIME! T-THIS TIME, M-MY BIG BRO IS WITH ME! N-NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO RUN AWAY, MAN!"_

Irvine lowered and trained his rifle, sneering. "I never run from a fight, friend. Best _you _give up, big boy." The minotaur roared.

"_BRO!"_

There was a bright flash, and then another minotaur appeared. This one was barely four feet tall, a red shield on his arm but otherwise dressed in armor with a similar—though smaller—mace in it's paws. The smaller minotaur sighed.

"_yeah bro,"_ he murmured, his tone soft and calm, especially in comparison to the other's loud bellowing. The bigger one turned to the smaller.

"_Y-YO BRO, THESE GUYS CRASHED THE TOMB! P-PLUS, THEY ATTACKED ME!" _The smaller one snorted.

"_oh, really . . ."_ it murmured, turning to fix Irvine with a curious stare. "_they attacked you? not bad for a human."_

"Wow," Rinoa murmured suddenly, "so the elder is smaller . . ."

The bigger minotaur waved it's arms angrily. "_Y-YO BRO! T-THEY'RE MAKIN' FUN OF US!"_ The little one snorted again, this time angry as well.

"_foolish little humans,"_ he sneered softly. "_i'll show you not to judge a book by it's cover."_

The elder minotaur might've been smaller, but he was by no means weaker. The tiny bipedal bull soon had Zell, Rinoa and Squall all flat on their backs and groaning in pain. The two minotaur brothers worked well in tandem as a team, quickly putting the group on their heels and on full defensive.

"They're earth elementals," Irvine heaved to Selphie from where she currently crouched, favoring her bleeding leg which had been caught by one of the minotaur's spiked maces. "As long as they're in contact with the earth, they can't be hurt. You have to keep pumping them with that Float spell. Then we'll take care of the rest. Focus on the little one first, he's the strongest."

The group went with Irvine's strategy, and it proved extremely effective. Selphie cast Float on the smaller minotaur, and then Seifer, Squall and Irvine peppered it with gunshots until it ceded defeat.

"_the rest is up to you, bro,"_ it murmured before collapsing to one knee.

The bigger one was taken care of similarly, this time with Zell pummeling it with blows until it fell back heavily.

"_THE BROTHERS DEFEATED?!"_

"Damn straight," Seifer snapped.

The smaller minotaur suddenly got back to it's hooves, wincing. The group tensed, but it waved them down.

"_you have proven your prowess, humans,"_ it murmured. "there will be no more battles between us."

"You are GFs aren't you?" Squall questioned then. "Guardian Forces," he clarified. They both nodded. Slowly, as they spoke, their wounds began to close over and heal until they were whole and healthy again.

"_my brother, Sacred,"_ the smaller one introduced, pointing to the bigger one. "_and i am called Minotaur."_

"Were you Junctioned to a student who died in this tomb?"

"_NO WAY MAN,"_ Sacred protested. "_WE WERE JUNCTIONED TO THE KING, VINCENT. HE FOUNDED THE KINGDOM OF GALBADIA OVER 300 YEARS AGO, AND RULED FOR MANY GENERATIONS OF PROSPERITY BEFORE SUCCOMBING TO THE HUMAN FRAILTY OF MORTALITY."_

"_we have guarded his resting place ever since,"_ Minotaur continued, "_long after the world of man forgot his name or the greatness he accomplished in his lifetime."_ Then he eyed Irvine speculatively. "_you have the look of him."_

Irvine blinked, stunned. "Me?" he parroted in disbelief. "Descended from a King?"

"_you were also the one who discovered our ties to the earth," _Minotaur continued. He and his brother suddenly hit their knees again, bracing on their maces with their horned heads bowed. "_we would be honored to junction with you and call you master, son of vincent."_

The others stared at Irvine. He was too flustered to speak at first, then shrugged. "Um . . . okay then, sure. What the hay. I'm game."

"_VERY WELL,"_ Sacred boomed. "_WE WILL JOIN WITH YOU."_

There was another bright flash, and then the two brothers disappeared. Irvine jerked, and then his eyes went very wide. Seifer grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Helluva rush, ain't it."

Selphie tended her wounded leg with a few potions. Squall sighed heavily.

"We still don't have that ID number."

"Man, I dunno about the rest of you, but I'm tired of wandering around in this place," Zell complained.

"Let's just go back to the city," Rinoa agreed grimly. "I'll speak to the guard."

Although Squall didn't see how her speaking to the guard would do anything but get her arrested or worse, he had no better ideas to give, so followed the others as they began filing out again. On the way, Zell suddenly tripped again.

"Hyne-dammit!" he snarled. "It's that stupid hunk of metal! I tripped on it _again!"_ He reared back to kick it once more, but Squall suddenly snapped for him to stop.

He knelt down and snatched the 'hunk of metal' off the ground and everyone widened their eyes as it was revealed to be a broken Garden issue sword. Squall narrowed his eyes, then shoved it in Zell's face, so that he could read the student ID number stamped plainly across the blade.

His blue eyes crossed. "Number 79," he read, then winced, chuckling sheepishly. "Ooops."

"Sonofabitch!" Seifer snarled. "You mean we just wasted two hours wandering around this stupid tomb when the number was right here in the first room the whole time?!" Not needing an answer to his question, the blonde reached over and popped Zell in the back of the head. "Stupid Chicken-wuss!" he snapped.

"Let's get back to the city," Squall called loudly when Zell would have come to blows, face flushed with fury. "We still have a mission to complete, in case you've forgotten. If we hurry, we can be back to the mansion by 1800."


	19. Chapter 18 : Ties That Bind

_**Author's Note - **Sorry for the huge delay in getting this chapter uploaded. It would've been done a couple of days ago but for some reason the site wouldn't let me upload any documents. XD But, anyhow, here's the next installment of SSW. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

_Ties That Bind_

By the time they reached Deling City again, the sun was starting it's slow decent toward the horizon. Rinoa had given Zell back his jacket—having dried out in the sun. She still seemed uncomfortable, however, antsy and restless as they got off the number 8 bus and approached the guard once more. Squall did his best to ignore her, needing to concentrate on the mission at hand.

The guard raised his brows as they approached. "Yes, what is it?"

Squall produced the broken blade, much to the wide-eyed guard's amazement. "79," he droned.

"That's correct!" he agreed, sounding slightly stunned. He cleared his throat then and turned. "Please, right this way!" The guard led them all up the long walk and toward the stone porch and massive front doors. Inwardly Squall sighed.

_Both Balamb and Galbadia Garden are joining forces with the general from the Galbadian Army,_ he mused silently. _Why?_ Then he shook his head with a scowl. _No point in me thinking about it. SeeDs aren't meant to question why._

The guard opened the door for them, but before Squall could enter Rinoa suddenly caught his arm and stopped him. Her eyes were very wide, face a shade pale.

"Um . . . is my contract . . . still in effect?" she questioned haltingly.

_What is it this time, _he wondered, annoyed. But he nodded. She swallowed hard, then,

"Don't leave me alone in this house," she suddenly entreated, her hand tightening over his forearm nearly to the point where her nails were biting through his jacket sleeve. She bit her lower lip. "Want me to explain why?"

Squall rolled his eyes. _This could take a while . . . _He figured she was probably afraid of getting arrested by the General of Galbadia, being a resistance faction member and all. Hyne only knew what she and her little inept gang had done to _this _guy in the past. "You should know by now," he announced, highly uncomfortable, gently removing his arm from her grasp. "Just tell us what to do and we'll do it."

The relieved smile she gave him was dazzling, and Squall did his best to try and ignore it. And failed miserably.

"Okay then," she agreed, dark eyes dancing. "Thanks."

The others chose that moment to catch up to them, and Seifer gave them an impatient look. "Can we get a move on please?"

Squall didn't reply, just stepped over the threshold and then followed the soldier as he led them all to a large, opulent and lavishly furnished sitting room. Irvine strolled into the back and sat down at the large desk, leaning back in the chair and then propping his boots up on the corner. He tipped his hat low, and then folded his hands over his belly and looked for all the world to be napping. Selphie went to stand at the tall windows, gazing out at the lights and bustle of the city. Seifer came in and plopped down on a two-seater divan, slouching down and resting his arms across the back. Rinoa seated herself in a cushioned chair across from him. Zell was too energetic to sit, and instead began pacing the room, his hands stuffed in his back pockets.

Squall himself came to stand in the corner, arms crossed, staring unseeingly at the paintings on the wall. He noticed right away that one of the paintings resembled the statue on the other side of the room. The only difference being that the woman in the painting had a wine glass in her hand, and the statue's hands were empty—though placed in the exact same position. There were fine crystal wine glasses on display on a shelf right next to the statue though. Squall snorted. Probably a secret entrance or something. Geez, how blatant could you get?

The group sat in relative silence for nearly a half an hour or more. Finally Rinoa—who had been growing more restless and agitated with every passing minute—slammed her fist into the arm of her chair.

"Hmph! He always does this!" Squall felt his eyebrow quirk. "So discourteous, making people wait!" Seifer frowned.

"Rinoa," he called in warning, but she ignored him and shot to her feet.

"I'm gonna go complain," she announced firmly, starting for the door. "Everyone just wait here."

She slipped through the door and Seifer put his face in his hand with a groan. She ducked back in then and gave the others' startled looks a strained smile. "Oh, by the way, this is my house," she announced then, "so don't worry."

And then she left completely. The silence was so thick you could hear a pin drop. Squall just blinked, utterly stunned. Okay, he definitely hadn't seen _that _one coming. _Hope it doesn't lead to trouble._ He noticed right away that Seifer didn't seem at all surprised. "You knew?" he questioned. The blonde shrugged, as if to say 'no shit.'

"What the hell's goin' on?!" Zell demanded then.

Before he had a chance to answer, a man in dark green military dress suddenly entered. He had Rinoa's black hair—his streaked in silver at the temples—though his eyes were a glacial blue. Apparently Rinoa had gotten her soft doe-brown eyes from her mother, whoever that was. The tall man swept the room, his face darkening when it fell on Seifer—who didn't bother returning the stare. He sighed and came farther into the room then.

Alone.

Squall scowled. "Where's Rinoa?" he demanded. The older man turned to pin him with a cold stare.

"She has not received the same type of training you all have," he announced coldly, "and may become a burden. It's for the best that she stay out of this operation."

"So you're Rinoa's father?" Selphie questioned then. The man turned to give her a sneering smile.

"I can't remember the last time she called me that."

Zell blew a sharp whistle. "So the father's a top military officer and the daughter's a member of an anti-government faction?!" He shook his head. "That's bad! . . . Really _bad!" _

"Yes indeed," the General murmured, tone dry. "It's a serious problem." He walked over to the window, arms folded behind him. "But it doesn't concern you," he announced then. "It's our problem."

Squall approached, eyes narrowed. The others watched him silently, wondering what he'd do.

_That's not the case . . ._

"Besides, we have far more important things to worry about," Caraway continued.

"Yeah, who gives a damn if you try and lock your daughter up in a gilded cage," Seifer sneered, still glaring in another direction. "And you wonder why she defies you at every turn."

The General didn't turn either. "I wouldn't offer an opinion on what you think I should be doing with my daughter, Almasy," he sneered softly. "Else I might go ahead and shoot you like I should've done last year."

The others' eyes widened at that juicy little tidbit. Squall did his best to ignore it.

_Garden's directive and Rinoa's orders have the same value to us, _he thought sneeringly, then cleared his throat to gain the General's attention. "Once our mission is accomplished here," he began stiffly, "we're working for Rinoa, as per our contract. I don't know what your situation is, but please don't interfere when the time comes."

The older man slowly turned from the window and pinned Squall with an ice-cold stare. "And if I do?"

Squall's glare was as equally frosty. _What's this guy's problem? _"We're all SeeD here," was his flat response. "We'll act accordingly."

Seifer, Zell and Selphie were all quick to give their silent, glaring agreement. Irvine suddenly sighed loudly, gaining everyone else's attention.

"Hey, hey, hey," he drawled. "Fellas . . . We're here to knock off the sorceress, right?" He pushed himself up over the desk and onto his feet, then leaned back against it on his hip, arms crossing. His normally smiling face was uncommonly stern. "So let's get down to business."

The General turned stiffly from the window and strode to the door. "Ok," he heaved. "Let me explain the plan."

Everyone reluctantly followed him out of the house. "I'm sure you know about the Sorceress Edea being elected ambassador."

_The Sorceress' name is Edea? _Squall wondered silently. The General continued, leading them down his front walk and across the street.

"There's going to be a ceremony tonight to commemorate the event."

_Sorceress Edea . . . . _

"It'll be at the Presidential Residence." He led them down the street and then in front of the huge palace in question, barred by massive gates bearing the Galbadian government seal. "During the ceremony you will split up into two teams and get in position. The gateway team will enter the gateway and stand by. The sniper team will stand by at the front of the Presidential Residence until the ceremony is over." He led them to the far right of the square. "This is where the sniper team will wait, right here, where I'm standing."

_So we're gonna divide into 2 teams ; the sniper team and the gateway team_, Squall muttered inwardly, committing the plan to memory.

The General motioned to the monstrous building in front of them. "That's the presidential residence," he announced needlessly. "Once the ceremony ends, a parade for the sorceress will begin. That's when the gate will open." He turned to Squall. "Lay low until then. The parade may be canceled if there is any commotion. We must avoid that at all costs." He turned back forward. "Once the gate opens, the sniper team will move out. With the parade drawing the crowd and the guards' attention, it should be rather easy to move about. The sniper team will head for the roof of the residence. In the corridor by the sorceress' room, there is a hatch that leads to the clock tower, which houses a massive carousel clock. You'll find the sniper rifle there. Stand by in the clock tower until exactly 20:00."

The General approached the huge gates of the presidential residence. "The parade will begin by the gate. The sorceress will be riding on the parade vehicle. After it leaves the gate, the vehicle will turn left. The parade will circle once around the city along the outer road and return to this space. It will return on the right side. Then it will turn right again and head this way."

He led them down the street toward the massive gateway beyond. "Here's where the gateway team comes into play." He came to stop at a service door near the base. "At exactly 20:00 the parade will pass under the gateway. At this point, the gateway team will operate the console to drop the gates. The sorceress will be trapped inside. Also at 20:00 the carousel clock will rise out of the roof, carrying the sniper team up was well. There will be no obstruction between the sniper team and the sorceress." He turned to pin Irvine with his unnerving stare. "Take the open shot." Then he sighed, arms folding back behind him. "That is all. Now we wait. You're free to go anywhere. Check out the city if you wish. Just one thing. Stay out of trouble."

_Who do you think we are? _Squall sneered. _We're not like your daughter . . . _"We're SeeDs," he finally snapped. The General didn't even twitch. Squall felt like punching the old bastard square in the nose. Hyne, was this how everyone else thought about him when he gave the emotionless treatment?

"Report to my residence when you're ready," the General announced. "We'll hold a final meeting then. After that, we'll proceed with the operation."

And then with that the General Caraway turned on his heel and stalked off. Seifer let out a foul curse after he'd gone.

"Hyne-damn that uptight bastard always got on my last fuckin' nerve."

"So you've met him before, huh?" Zell questioned, eyebrow raised and smirk merciless. "Just why is it the General was talking about shooting ya, eh?" Amazingly Seifer actually started to blush, his neck and ears turning a ruddy red.

Squall—who _really _didn't want to hear about the reason why General Caraway felt the need to shoot Almasy—interrupted impatiently with, "everyone go ahead and take care of whatever last minute preparations you need. Be back at Caraway's Mansion in a hour."

Then he turned and stalked off. Zell blinked.

"I think he was upset," he murmured. Seifer snorted.

"Naw, you think?!" he sneered sarcastically. Zell frowned.

"Well, how come?"

"No clue," Seifer returned dryly, then turned and stalked off too.

"_I_ think Squall's got a crush on Rinoa!" Selphie announced with a grin. Zell looked startled, then he snorted and shook his head.

"Squall?! Like Rinoa?! No way!"

Zell loped off into the night, still shaking his head at such a preposterous idea. Selphie and Irvine were left standing together, and remained that way for an awkward moment or two before Selphie abruptly turned around and hurried off. Irvine hung his head with a heavy sigh, stuffing his fists in the pockets of his coat before turning in another direction and wandering off himself.

Everyone but Seifer managed to return to the residence on time. The tall blonde was only five minutes late, and muttered for Squall to kiss his ass when the stone-faced teen gave him that disapproving stare of his. They gathered back into the sitting room once more, and this time the General was a little more prompt—now that he didn't have a feisty daughter to lure away from her protectors.

"It's time to form the teams," he pronounced. "The sniper and the leader of this operation will form the sniper team. The leader's role is vital."

Squall quirked a brow. _What does he mean? _

"If the plan fails for some reason," Caraway explained, "or should the sniper miss, the leader must carry out a direct assault against the sorceress. The plan was devised carefully, because we intend this to be a covert operation. But our ultimate goal is to eliminate the sorceress, and we must achieve this at all cost. Even if they uncover our identities. So, who's going to lead the operation?"

Both Seifer and Squall spoke at the same time. "I will."

Seifer turned to him with a glare. "No way, Pubes. You've played King of the Hill long enough, dammit."

"You're not even supposed to _be _here, Almasy," Squall shot back. Then he gave a sneering smile. "Besides, I grossly outrank you."

Seifer clenched his fists and took a step forward, but Selphie suddenly pounced in between them, hands held out to hold the two volatile males apart.

"Wait, wait, wait!" she cried, giving them both a stern pout. "How about this? Why don't we put it to a vote?" Seifer sighed and backed off, then nodded. Squall did as well. "Okay then," she nodded, putting her hands on her hips. "Everyone who thinks Seifer should be the leader of this operation, raise your hand."

Only one person did so.

Seifer lowered his arm again and gave them all a black glare. "Oh, I see how it's going to be," he growled. "I'll remember all you, you little traitorous bitches." Selphie giggled at that fearlessly, then turned back.

"Looks like Squall's the leader again."

The General took in a slow breath, then released it again. "Fine," he murmured. "I'll leave the rest up to you."

_The sniper team is decided, _he mused. "Irvine and I will make up the sniper team," he announced. "The gateway team will be . . ." He glanced at the others.

"The only ones left," Seifer sneered distastefully, crossing his arms.

"Woo!" Selphie cried, pumping a fist in the air.

"Let's _do it!" _Zell followed eagerly.

Selphie put a finger to her chin then. "Who's gonna be the leader for the gateway team?"

Zell started shadow-boxing eagerly, but Squall winced. _Sorry Zell . . . _He turned to a sour-faced Seifer and nodded.

"Almasy, you're in charge." Zell slumped miserably.

"Oh my, let me try and contain my excitement," was Seifer's sneering retort. Squall just rolled his eyes and ignored him.

"Ok," the General called. "Let's begin."

He led Squall and Irvine from the room. Seifer sighed, shaking out his coat.

"Ok, Almasy," Zell heaved. "We're on your team. Let's go kick some ass!"

"Woo hoo!" Selphie quickly followed. Seifer just fixed them both with a glare.

"We're going to go flip a switch. That's it. How in the hell can you two get excited about that?" Selphie stuck her tongue out at him and he grinned. "Don't stick that out at me unless you plan on using it, sweet-pea."

Surprisingly Selphie didn't balk, just grinned. "Anywhere, anytime, big boy."

Zell shuddered. "There's something about that right there that's just downright _unsettling." _

Seifer chuckled, then started leading the way out of the sitting room. He nearly ran into Rinoa on the way in.

"Hi!" she burst out, flushed. "Finally got out of there!" Then she glanced around. "Where's Squall?"

Seifer sighed. "Sorry Rin, but we have to get going."

"Hold on a sec," she entreated, then pulled something out of her pocket. "Take a look at this! This is called an Odine Bangle! I found it in my—that man's room."

"Odine?!" Zell parroted. Selphie frowned.

"Whatcha gonna do with it?"

"It's supposed to suppress sorceress' powers," she replied. Seifer sighed loudly, rolling his eyes heavenward. Oblivious to his shortening temper, Rinoa strolled farther into the room, arms crossed behind her. "But it's effects are still unknown," she admitted. "So I don't think they're going to use it for this mission."

"If it's Odine brand," Zell announced, "it should be pretty effective! They're number one when it comes to magical goods." She turned eagerly to the wuss while Seifer scrubbed at his face with one hand, trying to think of a way to approach this calmly.

"Right, right!" she agreed. Seifer finally turned to her, scowling.

"So what exactly do you want to do with the damn thing?!" he demanded harshly. "What, are you planning to have the sorceress put it on or something?" He stalked closer, glaring down at her. "Who? When? How?"

She stamped her foot, glaring back. "That's what we're going to discuss!" Seifer made a swiping motion with his arm.

"We don't have time for this shit! Pubes and Cowboy are already standing by. We have an operation to carry out to, as pussy-fied as it may be." Hurt flashed in her eyes before she turned away and mulishly glared at the wall. "Hyne-dammit, Rin, this isn't a game!" he roared. "I can't just sit around here and indulge another one of your daughter-daddy spats! Just . . . for _once _in your life, stay the fuck put until this is all over, alright?!"

Seifer whirled from her and stalked out. "C'mon!" he snarled to his teammates, who—after shooting her sympathetic looks—eventually filed out behind him.

Back in the room, Rinoa's lip trembled and tears threatened. "Who said this was a game?" she demanded of no one, her voice trembling. She slowly crouched to the ground, staring at the bangle in her hands, watching with morbid fascination as it slowly became nothing but a blur of color. "I understand what's going on," she continued to whisper brokenly. "It's not like I don't have a plan."

She finally just sat on the floor, knees drawn up to her chest, and stared at the wall in front of her, one hand clutching at her mother's wedding ring hanging around her neck.

* * *

Squall and the others left the mansion once more, trailing after the General as they moved out to take their positions. The streets were becoming clogged and crowded with spectators as everyone turned out to see the celebration ahead. Squall glanced at the tall redheaded cowboy at his side as they walked. 

"I'll make the first charge when we make the full-on attack," he pronounced. "I'll try to buy us some time."

Irvine gave him a slow smile. "That won't be necessary," he murmured confidently. "I'll get the job done." They were silent for a moment as they crossed the street and took the garden path toward the presidential residence. "So," Irvine suddenly murmured, "is it true that SeeDs aren't supposed to question their mission?"

Squall snorted softly. _There are times I'd like to know myself, _he thought to himself. _Like . . . now for example. But . . . _"Why do you care?" he finally asked aloud.

Irvine just shrugged, then continued. "So like . . . if you knew that your enemies were pure evil, you'd get more fired up to fight them, right?"

Squall frowned, but didn't reply. At least not aloud. Inwardly his mind was going a hundred miles an hour_. An enemy that's pure evil? Right and wrong are not what separate us and our enemies. It's our different stand-points, our perspectives that separate us. Both sides blame one another. There's no good or bad side. Just two sides holding different views._

They reached the gateway and Seifer broke away with Selphie and Zell. The General pinned the tall blonde with his cold stare.

"The gateway team will wait inside the gate until 20:00," he reminded them. "You can enter through this door. The sorceress will pass through the gateway at exactly 20:00. In that instant, lower the gates using the control console located on the top floor and trap her inside."

Seifer rolled his eyes but nodded and then turned to usher the other two into the service door.

Caraway led Squall and Irvine over to their designated waiting spot. "You two will wait here."

Squall came forward, frowning. "General, why has the sorceress decided to have such an extravagant parade?" he questioned.

He sighed. "She wants to establish her place in Galbadia Garden, since she has chosen that to be her base."

_So that's why Galbadia Garden wants her out, _Squall mused, then raised a brow. "So why are _you _so eager to see her dead?"

The General turned to pin him with his cold blue eyes before turning on his heel. "I'm returning to my residence," he pronounced, ignoring Squall's question as if he'd never spoken. "Good luck."

Squall watched him go for a moment, then sighed and turned his attention back to the operation at hand. As Irvine had said, it wasn't a SeeD's place to question the mission. They went where they were told to go, did what they were told to do. They never questioned why.

So why was he dying to know the answer to that very forbidden question?

* * *

Rinoa lifted her head when she heard footsteps outside the room. She still sat on the floor, and turned to glare over her shoulder when the door opened. Her gaze locked with that of the tall, powerful man that had sired her. A man she hated and loved with equal measure—much as her mother had, Rinoa had learned later in life. All she saw reflected back at her in those cold blue eyes was disappointment. She never could seem to please him, no matter how hard she'd tried. Much like her mother. Finally, like Julia, Rinoa had just stopped trying altogether. 

She turned away again and then motioned for him to leave her alone. She heard him sigh heavily.

"It'll be chaos out there soon," he murmured. "You'll be safe here."

Rinoa didn't turn, just motioned rudely for him to leave her be once more. There was silence for a moment, and then the sound of him turning around and leaving her again. She slowly got to her feet afterward, wiping at the tearstains on her face. She jerked however when she heard the tell-tale click and bleep of the room's lock engaging. She gasped.

"Oh no!" she hissed. "He's gonna lock me in!" She ran to the door, but hesitated. She gripped her mother's ring, then straightened with a determined scowl. "I . . . I can do it."

Rinoa slipped out of the room just before the door slammed shut and locked behind her. She avoided all the cameras and snuck out of the mansion through years and years of experience. The dark-haired girl slipped through the press and snuck past the guards, calling on a lifetime of sneaking and mischief, then made her way to the rear of the presidential residence. She assessed the old truck and crates in front of her for a moment, then began climbing.

"I'm not a SeeD," she grumbled to herself, "but I can do this." She hopped up on top of the truck, then began climbing on top of the crates in the back. "This isn't some kind of game."

Rinoa jumped off the crates onto the roof near-by, then hurried across and over to the ladder that would lead up to the balcony area. She hesitated there, crouching, checking to make sure there was no one about. Then she hurried into the balcony entrance and then snuck down the long hallway beyond.

Her heart felt permanently lodged up into her throat as she crept up to the large circular room in which the sorceress sat, her back to the door. A river of ink-colored hair fell down the back of the chair, pooling the tiles below. Rinoa clasped her hands behind her, one fisted tightly around the bangle, and swallowed thickly.

"Um . . . Excuse me," she called, voice whisper soft with nervousness. The sorceress didn't turn or indicate that she'd heard. "I'm . . . the daughter of, um . . . Galbadian Army's, um . . . General Caraway," she continued to ramble. The woman in black didn't react at all, so Rinoa plowed ahead. "I . . . thought I'd . . . come pay my respects . . . You know . . . 'cause of my father and all. So, I . . . um . . . brought you a small gift. Please . . ."

Rinoa took a few hesitant steps forward. She let out a sharp cry when she suddenly hit some sort of invisible barrier. The force field flung her backward onto her back. Rinoa groaned, dazed, and slowly rolled up into a sitting position. Her whole body hurt, as if she'd just been electrocuted. The sorceress remained seated and silent.

Rinoa shook her head slightly, then her eyes widened when her hand holding the bangle began to tremble, then began shaking violently. Rinoa tried to grab and still it with her other hand, but let out another startled scream when the hand holding the bangle suddenly shot up into the air and lifted her clean off the ground by a good three feet. She dangled there for a moment, eyes huge, then she jerked when something . . . strange . . . invaded her mind. Whispers, haunting, evil, words she knew but didn't know began echoing throughout her head. Her eyes rolled back, and then she was dropped to the ground, slumping.

The long black hair of the sorceress began to flow up and receded back into her headdress, and then the red mask covering her face disappeared. It revealed a shockingly pale but beautiful visage, lips painted in black and her eyes in violet. Behind her Rinoa stood back up, but now her eyes were blank and glassy, her expression slack. The sorceress gained her feet as well, metal cape snapping out behind her with two long lavender silk attachments drifting back as well.

The sorceress motioned with her arms, then stepped forward and walked through the now-rippling wall. Rinoa followed along helplessly, swaying on her feet like a marionette doll on a string.


	20. Chapter 19 : Operation Sorceress

**_AN – _**_Hey look! I'm not dead! *ducks the rotton vegetables* Ok, ok. So this hasn't been updated in . . . holy crap, two years? My how time flies. Anyhoo, I finally finished the next chapter. Hopefully there's a few of you still looking out for updates. Enjoy. The next installment shouldn't take near as long. At least I hope not. *sheepish wince* Thanks a ton for all the reviews in the meantime, and the encouragement to continue. Hopefully this lives up to the expectation._

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* * *

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**Chapter Nineteen**

_Operation Sorceress_

**~~*~~**

Seifer leaned boredly on one shoulder inside the gate house control room, doing his best to ignore Zell and Selphie as they chattered happily together like a couple of hyperactive magpies. Instead the tall gunblade specialist was staring out of the long, narrow opening, eyes roving restlessly across the glittering lights of the city beyond.

_Soon, Quisty, _he soothed himself gruffly, and the burning twinge of guilt that still ate at his chest. _Soon we'll kill the bitch responsible. Then maybe we can both find some peace._

Absently, he couldn't help but wonder if it would really be that simple. Or would this oppressive feeling of guilt continue to haunt him forever.

He was musing over that bit of unpleasant possibility when Seifer suddenly tensed, having caught sight of a familiar dark-haired female slinking through the press below.

"Hyne-damned, son-of-a-bitch, fucking—! Hyne save me from head-strong, stubborn-ass females!" he roared, rather ineffectually, since Rinoa couldn't possibly hear him from this height. Selphie and Zell turned to him in astonishment at his outburst, then loped closer to see what the problem was. Zell blew out a stunned breath of disbelief.

"Holy crap, is she doing what I think she's doing?"

"What is she thinking!" Selphie exclaimed shortly after, eyes wide and wringing her hands. "She can't possibly hope to do anything worthwhile with that bangle by herself!"

"Except get her fool ass killed," Seifer growled testily. He hesitated a moment longer, then growled and spun around, heading for the door. "You two stay put," he snapped, "and pull that lever when it's time."

Neither one of them contested his decision, watching him leave with matching expressions of worry and doubt on their faces. "Good luck," was Selphie's concerned murmur before the door slammed shut behind him.

**

* * *

**

Outside, Irvine and Squall both tensed as the sorceress suddenly appeared at the podium above. The redheaded cowboy's face was strangely drawn, teal eyes troubled.

"Here she comes," he muttered needlessly.

Squall stared up at the dark-robed figure silently, wondering if everyone else in Deling was insane or just stone blind and stupid. A Sorceress was a being of unimaginable power—a mortal able to channel powerful, seemingly endless amounts of magic through their bodies with little or no repercussion. One had not been seen openly in the world since the days of the Sorceress War, when the deadly and malignant Sorceress Adele had wreaked her havoc on the land before she was finally put down. And here they were, all cheering and applauding wildly as if she were some kind of saint, when anyone with half a brain would recognize the sneering, cold . . . _evil _expression on the woman's face. Squall couldn't rightly say what kind of emotion gripped him exactly in staring at the undeniably powerful creature, only that it was laced with a liberal amount of caution and uncertainty.

The sorceress approached the podium, where President Vinzer Deling had just finished introducing her. Squall tensed further, however, as a small figure slowly followed her out onto the balcony. A pale, dark-haired girl swaying unnaturally on her feet, expression blank and those beautiful brown eyes completely glazed over.

"H-hey . . . that girl!" Irvine suddenly hissed beside him. Squall felt every muscle in his body lock up with a very unfamiliar sensation. One that felt very similar to cold, biting terror, for someone other than himself.

"Rinoa."

The Sorceress placed her hands on either side of the podium, her eyes scowling down at the congregated below her with little hidden scorn in their depths. "Lowlifes," she sneered, her voice a strangely hypnotic purr of undeniable power. "Shameless filthy wretches. How you celebrate my ascension with such joy. Hailing the very one whom you have condemned for generations. Have you no shame?" Squall noted that the president—standing beside her—was staring at the woman with wide-eyed disbelief on his face. Obviously this wasn't the speech they had gone over previously. Sorceress Edea continued, oblivious or—more likely—uncaring of his opinion on the matter. "What happened to the evil, ruthless sorceress from your fantasies? The cold-blooded tyrant that slaughtered countless men and destroyed many nations? Where is she now?" The black-clad woman motioned grandly with her arms. "She stands before your very eyes to become your new ruler!" Edea threw her head back and chortled with laughter, a strangely discordant sound that sent the hairs along the back of his neck standing on end. "A new era has just begun."

Deling finally managed to wrest himself out of his shock. He stepped forward, and they could just barely hear his voice through the speakers. "E-Edea . . . Are you alright? Ed—," The president's words ended in a stunned, pained gurgle as the female beside him suddenly shot her arm out and the clawed ends of her hand stabbed deeply into his chest. The president's eyes bugged an instant before he slumped, and then his body was engulfed in a strange swirl of magical energy.

And still, the crowds around them cheered. Were they all under some sort of spell?

"This is the truth," Edea called coldly. "No one can help you. Sit back and enjoy the show." The Sorceress slung the former president's body from her with a negligent flip of her wrist. The body thumped somewhat sickeningly onto the ground, where it then began to disintegrate into gurgling, noxious yellow gases. "Rest assured, you fools. Your time will come," Edea promised in a deadly purr. "This is only the beginning. Let us start a new reign of terror. I will let you live a fantasy beyond your imagination." And with that she finally spun around and left the podium, leaving Rinoa swaying there helplessly.

Sorceress Edea paused in the hallway, her beautiful face twisting into an unholy smirk of amused evil. "Let us end this ceremony with a sacrifice."

Below, Squall and Irvine watched in horrified disbelief as two monstrous creatures suddenly darted through the crowd and then leapt up onto the balcony high above. Rinoa seemed to snap out of her strange trance an instant too late. She let out a terrified scream, falling back on her rear to avoid one of the beasts as it leapt at her.

Irvine grabbed Squall's shoulder and shook him hard. "Hey, hey, hey! She's in trouble, big-time! We gotta go help Rinoa!"

Because everything inside of him was screaming a shrill agreement, Squall forced himself to pull his shoulder out of the gunman's grasp and scowl.

"The parade hasn't started yet," he pointed out tonelessly. "Gate's not open."

Irvine just stared at him in shock, jaw dropping. "You gotta be kidding me!"

* * *

Seifer pushed and shoved his way through the oppressive throng, too worried about Rinoa at the moment to put too much thought toward the bizarre way the Galbadians were reacting to the witch-bitch's chilling statements. You'd think they would've been incited into a mass panic, not a drunken orgy-like euphoria. All in all, something weird was _definitely_ going on around here.

As the parade began, Seifer was forced to duck into the street—the only half-way clear avenue of movement—ducking through dancers and revelers, doing his best to remain as inconspicuous as possible while brilliant fireworks lit up the skies above and massive flaming braziers cast everything into an eerie red relief.

A moment later he was daring past the huge float that carried the Sorceress Edea, where she sat on a throne and looked for all the world to be the powerful queen she'd just proclaimed herself to be. But that wasn't what caused Seifer to stumble to a stop so fast he nearly lost his footing, or to straighten completely to his full height—completely forgetting his desire to stay hidden—his eyes wide in abject disbelief and his mouth opening to voice a protest that refused to leave his suddenly constricted throat.

A tall, slim, pale-skinned girl stood at the Sorceress's side, like a guardian. Her willowy frame was encased in a swath of richly made, delicate blue silk, the fine fabric hugging her lean frame and draping beautifully off her subtle curves—giving her an almost ethereal, otherworldly quality. Pale lemon-blonde hair spilled loose down her back, glinting gold in the light of the torches on either side of the dais. A deadly silver whip was clasped to the matching belt that framed her surprisingly curvy hips. All in all, she was beautiful. Hauntingly so. And so achingly familiar it hurt him to stare.

"Hyne . . ." Seifer breathed, in a voice that was barely audible through his shock. "Quistis."

She was alive. It was her . . . and yet . . . it wasn't. There was a chilling, wholly evil expression that twisted her pretty alabaster face as she stood tall and proudly beside the Sorceress, and the cold apathy now shining from her diamond-blue eyes as they swept over the teeming crowd.

_Hyne . . . shit . . . what did that bitch _do_ to you? _the tall warrior wondered dully, horrified. A faint, horrified scream suddenly wrenched Seifer from his stupor. Sorceress Edea's float had drifted off down the street on its planned path, leaving him staring at nothing. And at the sound of that far-off screech, Seifer was forcefully reminded of his original purpose. He whirled away from the parade for now, expression hardening. He'd figure out what to do about Quistis in a minute. For now, he had to get to Rinoa before she got eaten by those two lizard-lion reject things that the Sorceress had summoned on her.

Seifer rushed up to the gate, and adjusted his trajectory when he recognized Squall and Irvine standing near it.

"Now's our chance!" Irvine was yelling, in order to be heard over the music and the crowd. "Come on!" And then the tall cowboy turned and started running for the open gate. Squall, for whatever reason, didn't immediately follow. Seifer just let out a growl and rushed forward, snatching him up by the back of his jacket and physically hauling him forward.

"What're you waiting for, Pubes?" he snapped roughly. "A gilded invitation?"

Squall wrestled himself out of Seifer's hold, but continued running side-by-side as they made their way toward the back of the manor. "What in the hell are you doing here?" he snapped testily. "Aren't you supposed to be pulling a lever or something soon?"

Seifer just growled under his breath as the three men skid to a stop in front of a truck loaded down with crates. Parked conveniently close enough to use as leverage to get up onto the roof.

"Quistis is on that float," he announced softly as they started to climb. Squall shot him a sharp look at that, and Irvine gave a confused—and strangely startled—one. "I dunno what the fuck is going on," he continued gravelly, "but after we save Rin and kill that bitch, I intend to find out." Squall just nodded his agreement before they all turned their attention toward getting onto the roof in all possible haste.

The three raced across the balcony and then down the hall, into a large antechamber where Rinoa had managed to retreat to. The girl cowered now on the floor, curling into a helpless fetal position while the two Iguions crouched over her, looking ready to pounce any minute.

Despite his reluctance earlier, Squall was the first one forward, Shear Trigger raised and bellowing out her name as he charged. Behind him Seifer snorted a little he drew Hyperion and followed suit. Pubes had it _bad_, whether he was ready to admit it or not.

Both gunblade specialists singled out an Iguion, simultaneously slashing and firing and drawing their attention away from Rinoa, while Irvine hung back and laid down plenty of cover fire. A few bloody moments later they managed to fell them completely. Seifer grimaced a little, wincing and shifting his coat to stare at a new singed spot along the hem, courtesy of that damned lizard's fire-breath.

"Dammit."

Meanwhile Squall rushed forward and knelt down to Rinoa, who was still curled up on the ground. Slowly, as he neared, she carefully sat up and turned to him. Her face was pale, dark eyes widened, but alive and little worse for wear considering the very precarious situation she'd just been in. A breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding rushed out of him in a thankful hiss.

The girl swallowed somewhat thickly, her gaze—shimmering somewhat with unshed tears—turned up to him solemnly. "I was scared," she whispered softly.

Suddenly extremely uncomfortable now that the immediate danger was past—having no idea how he was supposed to deal with the aftermath of this kind of situation—Squall cleared his throat and straightened back to his feet again. Rinoa just lifted up onto her knees however, her tiny hands clutching at one of his arms.

"Really scared," she reiterated, tone still trembling somewhat with shock.

The SeeD tensed, even more confused than before. "It's over now," he reminded her somewhat bluntly. Meanwhile his gaze was caught by Irvine, who was standing near Seifer and jerking his head to one side, giving him some sort of expectant look. Squall just shook his head in return, his own expression confused and faintly annoyed.

Rinoa started shaking his arm then, regaining his attention and forcing Squall to look back down at her. "I was scared," she repeated somewhat desperately. "I was really, really scared."

"You're used to battles aren't you?" he demanded at length, tone a little on the gruff side with his continued uncomfortable confusion. In the background, Irvine had wrapped both arms around himself and was jerking his head even harder. Squall glared at him, wondering what the hell he was going on about.

Beside him, Rinoa slumped a little, her dark hair sliding around her pale face like a shroud. "I couldn't . . . I just couldn't. I couldn't fight alone."

Squall stared down at her bowed head for a moment, feeling something in his chest squeeze almost painfully. _You're not ready for this. _Unsettled by the foreign feeling, he cleared his throat again and carefully shook her hand off his arm. "Better get going."

At that Irvine threw his arms up into the air with a disgusted growling sigh and spun away, and Seifer just shook his head beside him. "And I thought _Chicken Wuss _was dense," he muttered half under his breath.

Rinoa got to her feet slowly, but when Squall made to start moving away she pounced forward and grabbed onto his arm again. The brunette froze in place, expression tightening. "I haven't forgotten your order," he assured her. Yet still she wouldn't let go, continuing to stare up at him imploringly. Finally Squall rolled his eyes somewhat and sighed rather heavily. "Just stay close to me." Finally soothed with that, Rinoa nodded shakily and let out a shuddering breath, finally releasing her death-grip on his arm. As Squall moved back out into the hallway and toward the hatch that the General had mentioned, she didn't allow him more than an arm's length ahead of her either.

The four of them made their way through the hatch and onto the darkened carousel clock currently underground. Squall spotted the huge, deadly black sniper rifle laying nearby and moved to grab it, then turned back to the others. He held it out to the suddenly solemn-faced redhead. "Irvine Kinneas, it's in your hands now."

Irvine hesitated only a moment before he reached out to take the weapon. Silent, he bowed his head and moved off to the other side of the clock, where he slowly sat down with his back to the wall, chin to his chest and knees drawn up, the rifle balanced against one of his shoulders.

The others exchanged a look of curious confusion. _Huh . . . Why'd he get all quiet? _Squall wondered to himself. Squall leaned up against one of the pillars on one shoulder while Seifer and Rinoa stepped forward and sat down on one of the fake drums. _Must be concentrating, _he finally decided. _Loneliness of a sharpshooter . . . I guess he has a point. _The brunette sighed somewhat, glancing around at their darkened surroundings, somewhat unnerved by the unnatural quiet. _Can't hear anything from in here . . . What's going on with the parade, I wonder?_ Squall found his gaze sliding over to where Seifer had hunched slightly, leaning back against the wall and glaring off at nothing. _Quistis . . . so she's alive. _

"You're certain it was her, Seifer?" he demanded at length. The blonde glanced at him, a shadow of his usual sneer pulling at his lips.

"I was standing less than ten feet away from the damn float, Pubes. Yeah. I'm pretty damned certain."

"Of what?" Rinoa questioned softly.

"Quistis," Seifer heaved, mostly sounding tired now. "She's alive." Rinoa's eyes widened with a gasp, but her budding excitement was soon quelled by his next words. "She's taken up with that witch-bitch for some reason, though. She was on the parade float with her. Like some sort of damned bodyguard or something."

Rinoa winced, then after a brief hesitation she reached out and put her hand over one of his resting on his knee. Squall glared at that hand, feeling an immeasurable amount of anger that it was sitting there and having no damned good reason why he should feel that way.

"What does it mean?" she questioned softly. It was Squall who found himself answering.

"Who knows," he muttered darkly, causing both of them to turn to him. Rinoa's gaze was sad, Seifer's dark. Likely he was thinking the same thing that Squall was. _If I were to face the sorceress directly . . . . Would I have to go through Quistis? _He scowled slightly, resentful of the painful tug in his chest. _That's the way it goes when you're SeeD, _he reminded himself bitterly. _You can't choose your enemies. _He lifted his gaze and met Seifer's again, the steel blue of his eyes flat and steady and betraying none of the inner turmoil within. "I may end up killing her."

Seifer's jaw seemed to tighten a fraction, but he said nothing, merely nodded his head. Rinoa stared down at the floor.

"You're both . . . prepared, right?" she questioned at length. Her eyes lifted up after a moment, and for some reason Squall found it very hard to maintain that stare. "That's the kind of world you live in. You've had a lot of emotional training." With the way she said it, Squall wasn't entirely sure if she found that to be a good thing, either. The dark-haired girl blew out a heavy sigh after that, wrapping her arms around herself as if chilled. "Of course, I hope it doesn't come to that."

Squall just glanced away, over to where the gunman still sat alone. "It's all up to Irvine," he heaved. The gunblade specialist had to pause slightly after a moment of staring, his eyes narrowing.

Was that gun shaking?

In three quick strides Squall closed the distance between them and knelt. And tensed when he realized that Irvine was shaking like the last autumn leaf clinging to a tree branch in the face of a winter storm. _Is he freakin' out?! _Squall scowled.

"Don't tell me you're getting the jitters," he growled, causing Seifer and Rinoa to turn to them as well. Irvine slowly raised his head, a strange heaviness in his teal colored eyes before he tilted completely back and stared up at the ceiling.

"I-I . . . I can't do it."

Squall smacked his face into his palm, while Seifer let out a barking growl of disbelieving laughter.

"You gotta be shitting me."

**

* * *

**

Zell, who had been keeping an eye out through the window slat, tensed as the carousel clock slowly raised up out of the president's residence, the huge red digital numbers across its surface reading 20:00, just as the parade float made its way underneath them.

"Now, Selphie!" he called. "Hit it!"

The energetic female grabbed the switch and yanked with all her might. There was a thudding rumble, and then below them the portcullis screeched downward, thudding deep into the pavement with a crash on both ends. Trapping the float inside.

The sorceress got to her feet immediately, her beautiful face twisted into a scowl. Beside her Quistis whirled this way and that in search of the threat, a hand snatching up the handle of her wicked silver whip, blue eyes narrowed into icy slits.

**

* * *

**

"Irvine Kinneas!" Squall snarled, trying to snap the bastard out of it.

"C'mon you braggart piece of shit!" Seifer was quick to follow up. "Just shoot the damn thing!"

"I-I . . . I can't," the redhead forced out, his face near ghost-white, teal eyes haunted. "I'm sorry, I can't do it. I always choke like this," he revealed miserably. "I try to act cool, joke around, but I just can't handle the pressure."

"I am going to shove that rifle _straight_ up your ass if you don't get up and shoot," was Seifer's snarling assessment.

"Seifer!" was Rinoa's aghast protest just after.

"Forget it," Squall snapped, tuning the both of them out, "Just shoot."

"My bullet," Irvine mumbled. "The sorceress . . . I'll go down in history," he whispered. "I'd change the history of Galbadia . . . Of the world!" He grit his teeth, turning away slightly and clutching at the gun still resting against his shoulder. "It's all too much."

Quickly growing exasperated himself—knowing precious seconds were ticking by, seconds they couldn't afford to waste—Squall snarled, "Enough! Just shoot!"

"I can't, dammit!" Irvine growled back, tone raw.

Squall forced himself to try and calm down at that. Losing his cool wasn't going to help Irvine regain his. "Irvine, calm down," he advised softly, then. The steady, confident tone of his voice immediately caused the spark of panic to ease in the gunman's eyes. Instead he put his face in his hands, slumping slightly and shaking his head. "Everyone's waiting on you," Squall reminded him as gently as he could. "I don't care if you miss," he announced. "Whatever happens, just leave the rest to us. Just think of it as a signal," he finally pronounced somewhat desperately when Irvine still hadn't moved. "A sign for us to move."

Finally the gunman turned slightly, his head cocking back in Squall's direction. "Just a signal . . . ."

_That's it. _"Please," Squall murmured then, voice shaking slightly with the tension he was trying so hard to suppress.

Irvine took a deep breath, then finally got to his knees and spun around, lifting the rifle and balancing it against the edge of the clock. "Just a sign," he seemed to whisper to himself, almost like a prayer, before he chambered a bullet with a sharp, precise motion and then took aim. A second later the barrel of the sniper rifle exploded in fire as the bullet launched from the weapon.

Only to fall short of its mark, as the sorceress quickly threw up some sort of magical barrier that blocked the deadly projectile with a motion of her arm and a sneer of her lips.

Irvine slumped at that, head bowing. "I'm sorry."

Squall just shook his head. "It's okay," he found himself moved to sooth. "Your aim was perfect. Just leave the rest up to me." He stood, swinging around to stare at Seifer. "Be ready to back me up."

"You're delusional if you think I'm sitting up here twiddling my thumbs, Pube Boy," was the taller teen's sneering retort. Not having the time to argue, Squall just turned back to Irvine, who was slowly getting to his feet as well. "Take care of Rinoa."

Seifer drew Hyperion and launched himself after Squall as the brunette took off out of the carousel clock at a dead run. The two SeeDs darted out to the balcony, then leapt up over the podium and plummeted to the pavement below. Seifer dive-rolled somewhat to break his momentum, seamlessly regaining his feet and tearing into a small regiment of Galbadian soldiers who had come forward to stop them with a snarl. Squall did much of the same beside him.

Puberty turned after the last one was dropped and launched himself toward a little blue speedster. Seifer wasn't two steps behind him, and leapt into the passenger seat just as Squall dropped the clutch and took off with a screeching squeal of tires. Squall maneuvered them through the milling mass of bodies, launching them straight at one of the closed portcullis. Seifer braced himself for the impact, and barely moved when the front end of the car smashed completely through the iron grate.

Immediately the two leapt out of the car, gunblades drawn, and up onto the float inside. Only to come face to face with where Quistis was kneeling in front of the sorceress, pale face twisted into a predatory smirk, slowly running the handle of her whip along the curve of her jaw.

"Aw, the little boys want to play," she purred softly. "Hm-m. This should be . . . interesting."

She slowly straightened then, her whip uncoiling and writhing the ground beside her like a molten-silver snake just itching for the chance to strike.

"Quistis, snap out of it," Squall snapped beside him, scowling.

"What in the fuck do you call yourself doing, taking up with psycho-bitch over here?" Seifer demanded just after.

Her pale blue eyes narrowed dangerously, her former smiling face twisting into a look of resentful hatred.

"I am following my _true_ calling," she hissed. For a moment, Seifer could have sworn he saw her eyes start to glow faintly, and the hair along his arms and the back of his neck started to raise on end as he felt a sudden upsurge of something in the air around him. Almost like the charged energy in the air just before a lightning strike. Her golden hair twisted upward, swaying and floating somewhat unnaturally as if she were caught in some sort of gravity field. "I am a _god_ among _insects!"_

Seifer and Squall barely had enough time to react, diving in opposite directions as a massive fork of energy suddenly erupted from her free arm and exploded the ground where they had just been standing. Seifer rolled back to his knees, his body continuing to do as it had been trained even while his brain had completely shut down from shock.

"Holy . . . fuck."

That wasn't any thunder spell that he knew of. That hadn't been like any kind of magic that a normal SeeD could produce . . . it seemed more like the sort of innate stuff . . . that he'd seen that black-clad psycho-bitch produce.

Quistis—or rather the mysteriously powerful creature she had become—let out a low, purring chuckle of pleasure before her deadly whip slashed out with a surgeon's precision. Opening up a deep, bloody furrow across Squall's right thigh before the teen had a chance to get out of the way. He hissed in pain, stumbling slightly.

_Get up and fight, jackass, _Seifer snarled at himself. _She's obviously twisted off her damned rocker. It's not Quistis anymore. It's the enemy. Quistis is dead. Get the fuck up! _

The last desperate inner-snarl managed to help him leap out of the way just before another massive bolt of energy came sizzling in his direction.

Acting on some sort of eerie, unspoken agreement, Seifer and Squall both raised their gunblades at the same time and launched forward to engage Quistis fully. As strong and as good with that whip as she had been, the former Instructor would not have been able to hold them both at bay. Yet this new creature did so, if not easily than at least decently enough. Her deadly silver weapon slashed and cracked the air around her, catching the both of them more than once. In between that she reared back and then seemed to roar in his direction. Seifer almost didn't avoid the huge gout of flame that thundered past—eerily reminiscent of the ability the Iguion had unleashed. Stunned, Seifer rolled back to his feet, slowly putting the pieces of the puzzle together. Somehow, someway . . . Quistis was using monster magic. Without a GF. And there were absolutely no signs of mag-fatigue wracking that deadly body of hers, either.

Shit. Quistis was a sorceress, too. _That _was why Edea had taken her, back in Timber. _That's_ what the freak show had meant when she'd mentioned Quistis' 'true potential.'

_Holy Hyne. _

From the pale-faced look on Squall's face, it seemed he'd come to the same conclusion as well.

Irvine and Rinoa chose that moment to suddenly launch themselves up onto the float beside them. Quistis took a measuring step backward, eyes narrowing again and her whip cracking agitatedly.

Behind her, Sorceress Edea sneered. "SeeDs," she sneered, violet-black lips curling. "Planted in a run-down garden."

"You three, finish the mission," Seifer found himself barking, lifting Hyperion and trying to ignore the myriad painful slashes now striping his arms and chest. Just deep enough to distract him. "I'll hold Quistis."

The blonde in question just threw her head back and cackled, but allowed the other three to dart past her. She closed the distance between them instead, her whip lashing lazily in her wake. "My mistress will make quick work of your friends," she assured in a deadly purr. As she got closer, Seifer suddenly realized that the pupils of her ice-blue eyes were no longer round, but strangely club-shaped. "I am going to enjoy choking the life from you, insect," she announced, then.

"Then stop runnin' your mouth and come get some, crazy-bitch," he snapped.

When her whip slashed up Seifer was ready, raising his hand and catching the end of the deadly weapon before it could coil around his neck. He allowed himself a brief second to relish in the startled expression that flickered across her pale face before he wrapped the whip around his fist and then yanked as hard as he could. Quistis stumbled forward, thrown off balance, and ended up taking the fist he had curled around the handle of his gunblade that much harder across her cheek.

The female let out a slight cry, whirling with the force of the blow and stumbling again. Yet she was quick to recover, forcing Seifer to duck to avoid the next vicious lash of that whip. Her face was fixed into a deadly snarl now, somewhat ruined by the stream of crimson staining the front of her chin from her now-split lip. Seifer was forced to ignore anything that might be taking place in the climactic battle with Edea beyond, his entire being focused on the deadly creature directly in front of him now hell-bent on slaughtering him in the most painful way possible.

Seifer dodged another blast of electricity, but was forced to take the shards of ice that came hurling at him right afterward in the side with a slight roar of pain. He managed to fend her off with a few swings of Hyperion, but he stumbled dangerously afterward. He was losing too much blood, sapping his strength and concentration fast.

Sensing her victory, Quistis' expression twisted into a triumphant grin as her whip lashed up and this time snapped around his neck like a boa constrictor. Immediately Seifer choked, his airways violently snapped shut. Hyperion clattered to the ground as he raised both hands to his neck, clutching at the weapon in a desperate attempt to dislodge it. But he was already too weak from his other injuries and blood loss, and didn't accomplish much before he was jerked off his feet. The force of the landing shoved what little air was left out of his lungs. Seifer struggled harder, more futile, the edges of his vision starting to turn black.

Quistis suddenly hovered into his field of vision, holding the end of her deadly silver whip cruelly taut, expression triumphant. Seifer stared up into those cold blue eyes, desperately searching for some small shred of recognition.

Beyond them, Edea slumped, seemingly defeated. Yet suddenly she straightened again and a gigantic spike of ice formed above her raised palm. Before anyone had a chance to react, she sent the projectile hurtling toward Squall with the speed of a bullet. The icicle speared him straight through the chest, sending the teen flying backward. Expression twisted somewhere between shock and pain, he toppled back over the rail of the bridge and plummeted down to the river below, Rinoa's shrill scream following him down.

Seifer choked again. "Q . . . Q-Quisty," he somehow managed to force out, his brain starting to shut down from lack of oxygen.

Amazingly Quistis seemed to tense above him at that hoarse plea. She blinked several times, her head twitching slightly to the side, and then her crazed expression slowly melted into an extremely confused one. And then that quickly shifted into a look of pure horror and disbelief.

"Oh Hyne! Seifer!"

The whip was quickly snatched away from his neck then with a flick of her wrist. Seifer took in a deep, ragged breath that came back out in a rush of coughing and choking. He was bleeding too heavily now however, his body too weak. Though he desperately fought it, blackness soon swept over him afterward. Throwing Seifer into the cold, unforgiving realm of unconsciousness.


	21. Chapter 20 : The Meaning of SeeD

**_AN – _**_Just a forewarning, this chapter and the one after it will earn the M rating. Be prepared._

* * *

**Chapter 20**

_The Meaning of SeeD_

**~~*~~**

Slowly, Zell became aware of his surroundings again. His eyes opened, vision clearing after a moment to reveal the same dank, dark, rusted metal walls and ceiling that he'd been staring at for only Hyne knew how long, now. It was impossible to keep track of time, in here.

"Welcome back, Zell," Rinoa murmured beside him, causing him to turn and then slowly sit up with a wince. "The 'dream world' again?" He sighed somewhat heavily, nodding.

"Uh huh."

"How's Laguna doin?" Selphie questioned on his other side. Zell shrugged.

"I dunno, I didn't see him." Zell made a face, struggling to put the visions he'd seen into some semblance of sense. "It's not like I know everything about Ward, but . . ." The blonde reached up to rub at the back of his head. "Well, you know Laguna and company went to that Centra place and got into a real fix, right?" When the other two girls nodded he sighed. "After that, Ward's been working in some sort of prison-like place. And he's bored outta his mind!" the energetic martial-artist announced, pained—as he too had been forced to endure the painful doldrums in his dreams. "All he wants is to be fightin' alongside Laguna."

Rinoa rubbed a little at her arms. "I wonder what it is that you guys are experiencing?"

Zell scowled a little, uncommonly short-tempered given the circumstances. "How the hell should I know?!"

"Well," Selphie suddenly called loudly, "since we're prisoners . . . shouldn't we be trying to break out of here?!"

Zell shot her a look at that, expression bland. Like he wouldn't have already done that if he had even a small shred of inkling as to how to go about it.

"I wonder what happened to Squall . . . and Seifer," Rinoa whispered, almost to herself. Causing the other two to stare at her with softening expressions of sympathy. She wrapped both arms around her knees, head bowed. "Did they bring them here too?"

Zell couldn't rightly give an answer to that, so said nothing. Too afraid to really explore the possibilities himself. Selphie seemed similarly inclined to worried silence as well, biting her lip, shoulders drooping.

After a moment, Rinoa suddenly straightened, brown eyes sharpening. "Um . . . did you just say that Ward was working in some sort of prison?"

Zell raised an eyebrow at her. "Yeah, so?"

"And wasn't he from Galbadia?"

"Sure, he's a soldier there," Zell agreed.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you supposed to be Ward in that dream world?"

"Just now I was," he answered, starting to frown a little, wondering where she was going with this train of thought.

Rinoa's eyebrow raised. "Does this room look familiar?"

Zell snorted to himself, rolling his eyes. _Of all the stupid questi—. _The blonde tensed, his gaze sharpening into focus and _really _taking in his surroundings for the first time. _Hey? Whoa? Wait a sec . . . _Zell shot to his feet with the upsurge of excited adrenaline that was suddenly thundering through his system. "I know this place! Guys, listen up! This is the prison where Ward works at!"

Rinoa just smiled a little bemusedly, while Selphie made a face behind him. "Nice to see he caught up with the rest of us."

"There's so many rooms just like this one," Zell was muttering to himself, oblivious to Selphie's sarcasm. "It's got to be here."

"There's a prison for political activists in Galbadia," Rinoa agreed. "This must be the place where Ward works at. Right where we are. I'm sure of it!"

Selphie let out a heavy sigh. "Well that's no surprise. We did attack the sorceress, after all."

Rinoa swallowed somewhat thickly. "We went up against the president. We'll all be sentenced to death . . . ."

Zell frowned. "The president's no longer in charge," he pointed out. Rinoa hesitated at that, but none of them were soothed by that knowledge.

"Now that Galbadia's in the hands of the sorceress . . . What's going to happen to us?"

Neither Zell or Selphie had a ready answer for that, which was perhaps more frightening than knowing exactly what was in store.

"Things don't look so good," Selphie whimpered softly.

Zell plopped back onto his rear, deflated. _What's gonna happen to us? _he wondered to himself nervously. _And where the hell is that guy, Irvine? And where's Squall and Seifer? And Quistis? Did the sorceress . . . _Zell swallowed somewhat thickly at that grisly thought, unwilling to finish it, even to himself.

Unfortunately there were no ready answers forthcoming to his many questions. Only unnerving silence.

**

* * *

**

Meanwhile Squall was slowly coming to, as well. He sat up gingerly, shaking his head slightly to try and clear it of the fog of confusion that continued to cloud it. He was in some sort of small metal cell it looked like, with a single cot and very crude means of relieving oneself. The confined space smelled heavily of urine, vomit, sweat and blood among other, far less savory things. And it was unbearably hot as well, like a damned oven. He panted a little through his mouth—doing his best not to breathe through his nose so as not to endure the stink of his surroundings any more than he had to—feeling the sticky trickles of sweat coating his entire body beneath his clothes. It took a moment for his befuddled brain to fully recognize the consequences of that odd happenstance.

Squall hadn't been hot in nearly eleven years. Not since he'd first junctioned with Shiva. The fact that he was overheated now meant that she was either gone, or being forcefully suppressed by something. Which did not bode well for him at all, in either case.

_Where am I?_

Squall slowly sat up—mindful of the slightly nauseous feeling swimming around in his aching head and cramping gut, not in any way helped by the suffocating heat and the smells—and swung his legs over the side of the cot. He braced his elbows on either knee, putting his face in his hands afterward, trying desperately to make sense of the fragmented shards of memories in his brain. Trying to sort out reality from fevered imagination. _I . . . challenged Edea, _he reminded himself. _My wound . . . ._

Squall straightened a little and stared down at himself, where the gigantic spike of ice had speared him straight through the chest cavity. The searing agony had been immense. And yet, incredibly, there wasn't even a scar marring his skin where he'd been hit. Though his shirt still bore the torn and bloody hole, which assured him that that particular memory wasn't just a fabricated fantasy.

_No wound? _he wondered dully. _How . . . The Galbadian soldiers, _Squall suddenly remembered, more of his memories returning and his vision sharpening just a little more. _We were surrounded. And she was there . . . Quistis. Trying to protect Seifer. The sorceress blasted her with something._

"Damn you, Edea!" Squall found himself snarling aloud, his voice ringing oddly off of his metal prison. He shot to his feet, but immediately the world began spinning dangerously. Ill and disoriented, Squall quickly hit his knees.

It took him a moment to realize that it wasn't just his nausea and dizziness making him think the world was tilting dangerously on its axis. That his box-like prison was falling, or was it rising? and at a nerve-wrackingly fast speed to parts unknown.

**

* * *

**

The three in the group cell suddenly tensed as the loud sound of something mechanical being disengaged thudded throughout the room. Zell shot to his feet out of sheer habit, fists clenched.

"What, what?!" Selphie chirruped, green eyes wide. "What was that loud noise?"

A moment later the door to their cell was unlocked and thrown open. The three of them watched warily as three guards entered. Zell eyed the leader, inwardly groaning at the sneering look of superiority on his face.

_I don't like him at all . . . ._

"It's the sound of your friends being tortured," the one in the front, who was apparently the higher rank, sneered cruelly, laughing.

"What was that?" Zell demanded angrily, taking a threatening step forward. "What are you doing to them!?" The other two guards immediately raised assault rifles and trained them on his chest, forcing Zell to stop and back down, reluctantly lifting his hands a little in a show of acquiescence instead.

"Got ourselves a tough guy, eh?" the leader snarled. "You don't wanna screw around with me, pissant. Just who the fuck do you think is in charge here!?" Zell just held his ground, blue eyes narrowed. He'd been tormented by the likes of Seifer Almasy for most of his tender adolescence. This skinny prison guard prick didn't even come _close_ on the intimidation scale. His face flushing with fury, as he wasn't getting the proper amount of submission that he preferred, the guard suddenly rushed forward and grabbed Zell by the neck. He shoved the more powerful male up against the wall, burying his baton into the blonde's throat hard enough to start choking him. The deadly martial-artist forced himself not to retaliate to the attack through sheer force of will—mindful of the assault rifles still pointed at him. Instead he just continued to glare blandly. "I asked you a question!"

"Lemme guess," Zell finally growled through the lacquered wood shoved against his neck. "A couple of muscle-bound bullies dunked your head in a toilet one too many times as a kid, is that it. Shoved you in a locker? Or did Uncle Vernon used to sneak in your room at night and touch you in the naughty place—,"

Zell's brief moment of defiance was cut short by that baton whipping around and cracking him across the face. Pain exploded through his skull, forcing the SeeD to his knees. He let out a loud growl then through the blood flooding into his mouth, and tensed as if to straighten, yet jerked to a halt again when the barrel of a gun was suddenly shoved against his temple. Zell forced himself not to move or bother defending himself as the now purple-faced leader began kicking him in the ribs. Just curling inward somewhat and doing his best to try and keep from getting any broken bones.

On the sixth kick, Rinoa finally shot to her feet, eyes glistening with tears. "Stop!" she screamed, tone strangled.

Amazingly, he did so. Zell just collapsed a little, cradling his throbbing side and wincing through the pain.

"Heh," the guard chuckled somewhat, out of breath. "I almost forgot why I'd come in here." Zell hissed a little in protest when the bastard grabbed a fist-full of his hair and yanked his head up. "Hey man," the guard growled in a deceptively friendly tone. "is there a Rinoa Caraway in here with you?"

Rinoa took a step forward, ignoring Zell's pained glare. "I'm Rinoa," she called.

The guard grinned, releasing Zell with a jerk. "Good. Come over here."

The guard not shoving a gun to the back of Zell's skull quickly stepped over and grabbed the dark-haired girl by the arm.

Zell forced himself up a little, ignoring the blood dripping down the front of his chin. "What are you gonna do to Rinoa, you bastard?" he snarled through teeth clenched against the pain in his ribs.

This time it was more the swimming fuzziness in his head than any force of will that kept Zell from protecting himself against the boot that slammed against his jaw, sending him sprawling backward in a graceless heap, out cold.

"Stop it already!" Selphie cried angrily.

"Stop," Rinoa repeated. "I'll go," she assured them as calmly as she was able.

The leader motioned with his head then, and the other two guards took up positions beside her and began ushering Rinoa out of the cell. Selphie watched them leave, eyes wide.

"Rinoa . . . ."

The dark-haired girl managed a smile over her shoulder, trying to appear brave. "I'll be fine," she murmured softly, then straightened again. "Let's go."

A moment later they were gone, the door slammed shut and locked behind them.

**

* * *

**

Seifer hissed in protest as the little metal box he was locked inside came to an abrupt, jarring stop—forcing him to his knees. Still groggy, stiff and sore, he wasn't as quick as he might have been previously in recovering. He had no idea how long he'd been trapped in the hot, horrid-smelling prison, only that it was more than a little while.

He did his best to straighten with some ingrained sense of self-preservation when the side of the box opened. The air that rushed in wasn't any cooler than the air he'd been suffering, but it was at least a bit fresher in smell and Seifer breathed it in greedily. He watched somewhat warily as a tall Galbadian officer stepped forward then, eying his prone form coldly.

Before Seifer had a chance to do more than scowl back, the officer motioned and several guards suddenly moved forward. "Take him."

Seifer growled and shifted a little in futility, but in the end he was helpless to keep from getting grabbed by several pairs of hands and then hauled roughly to his feet. He was yanked out of the box and onto a platform of some sort instead. Then he hit his knees again with a pained roar when what felt like the butt of a rifle connected with his kidney from behind. The air around him rang with grating laughter as he curled in slightly, wheezing.

"So this is one of the almighty SeeD, eh?" one of them called, laughing. "Pathetic!"

Seifer snarled slightly, twisting on the floor and grabbing a foot of the one who had spoken. Before they could stop him he twisted sharply with all his strength, dislocating if not breaking the bastard's ankle, causing him to fall back with a shrill scream. Then Seifer curled up again and did his best to protect himself from the barrage of kicks and blows that rained down on top of him in instant retaliation.

"Enough!" someone finally barked, impatient. "Get him to the interrogation room. The warden has to deal with that blonde girl after this."

Seifer tensed a little, a small shred of hope flaring to life in his gut. Could it be . . . Quistis? She had spared him, after all. Was she being held here as well, then? He allowed himself to be yanked back to his feet again, and then they started half-leading, half-dragging him forward.

"I hope the warden leaves a little bit of that beauty for the rest of us," one of the guards chuckled, rubbing crudely at the front of his fatigues, gaining several chuckles of agreement from his fellows. Seifer felt his eyes narrow in impudent rage. "Haven't had a piece in here that pretty in a _long _long time."

He was helpless to do more than stew, however, as he was dragged into what they had termed the 'interrogation room.' It was a somewhat large chamber filled with various machinery, a large, wet stone wall to one side with what could only be restraints bolted into it. Seifer eyed them warily, a hard, cold ugliness settling into the pit of his belly. His gaze was caught by movement to the side just afterward, and was somewhat surprised to see Squall being dragged in from another direction. The brunette looked as battered and beat up as he himself felt.

The guards started stripping them afterward, ripping and tugging sharply until their already ruined clothes were nothing but tatters at their feet, leaving the two teens in nothing but their underwear. Then they were being shoved forward, lifted up and strapped to the concrete wall with their feet together and their arms spread wide. A steady, slow stream of ice-cold water poured down the wall and within moments they were both drenched. Seifer grimaced, wrists twisting helplessly in the thick leather bonds as one of the technicians started attaching electrodes to his now wet, shivering flesh.

Seifer knew exactly what they were getting ready to do. As a SeeD, he'd been trained extensively in several different methods of torture. But knowing about it and being on the verge of experiencing it firsthand were two very different kettles of fish. He glanced to the side and found Squall staring at him, expression blank. Yet Seifer saw a mirror to the cold horror he himself felt in those steel-blue eyes. As well as the same stone-faced determination. Seifer just jerked his chin slightly in acknowledgement before he turned forward again, taking a deep breath and doing his best to try and prepare himself for the hell that was coming.

Most of the guards filed out after that, leaving only the slightly pot-bellied toad near the controls, smirking up at them in sheer anticipation.

"I'm sure you two can guess what happens next," the bastard almost purred.

"Squall, remind me to send a complaint to the front desk when we get outta here, would ya?" Seifer heaved, ignoring the warden completely. "Their bedside manner _sucks."_

Below, the Warden scowled slightly. "What is SeeD?" he demanded then. "Edea demands to know!"

"SeeD?" Squall croaked, his voice cracking slightly from lack of water and pain. Both of them were visibly shaking from the wet and the cold, as well as a touch of the adrenaline thundering through their systems in preparation for what was coming. "You mean those little things you put in the ground? Well with a little water, patience, and some sunlight and love, you'll have yourself a pretty little flower."

The warden's face flushed before he reached over and threw a switch. Both Squall and Seifer immediately began thrashing and grimacing in pain as cruel amounts of electricity pumped through their bodies. It stopped a moment later, leaving them both trembling and gasping for breath.

"There must be some secret you're told when you graduate!" the warden insisted. "What is SeeD?"

Seifer coughed. "Oh. Now I . . . Now I know what you meant. Well . . . you see . . . when you play with Little Warden a little too much, this stuff comes shooting out—,"

He was forced to stop mid-sentence as the warden shocked the shit out of them again.

"If you two won't talk, I'll be forced to speak to the others," the Warden warned harshly. "That tattooed loud-mouth, or perhaps that tiny brunette? Or maybe the sorceress' former toy? She used to be a SeeD. I'd hate to have to take my anger at you two out on those girls," he growled low. "I already have such plans for them, after all."

Despite the hot fury that pooled in his blood at the thought of this sick bastard coming anywhere near Quistis or Selphie, or the spasms of agony licking at his muscles, Seifer forced his head to turn toward Squall. He blinked the water out of his eyes enough to glare at his companion.

"Well this is a nice cluster-fuck you've managed to get us in to," he snapped viciously. "Way to go, Oh Fearless Leader." Squall managed to work up a scowl of his own through the streaks of blood snaking down his face and chest. If they could keep each other coherent, they might yet survive this nightmare.

"Fuck you, Almasy!" Squall snarled back, playing along seamlessly. Seifer let out a wry bark of laughter at that.

"Hah! Take a _number,_ jackass—."

Again they were interrupted by another violent jolt of electricity, this one much stronger than the others. Seifer's back bowed up completely off of the wet stone, straining against his bonds and unwillingly letting out a scream of pain through his clenched teeth. One as loud as the tortured sound that tore out of Squall's chest as well.

**

* * *

**

"Cure!"

Zell let out a shrill yelp, twisting away from Selphie and her well-meaning attempts to try and cure his injuries. She sighed heavily afterward, slumping.

"Aw, it's no use. There's some sort of anti-magic field in here. It's suppressing Fee, I can't hear him or feel him at all."

Zell just rolled up into a pained sitting position on his own, sighing heavily. He'd been unconscious for a lot of it, but Selphie had announced that Rinoa had been gone for a disturbingly long amount of time. At least a day, she thought, though she couldn't be entirely sure either. It was unnerving in the extreme, not knowing what was going on.

They both tensed when the door to their cell suddenly opened again, but relaxed again when one of the orange-furred, lion-like creatures loped inside. Moombas, they were called, apparently used as cheap labor here at the prison. This one was carrying two trays of food, their dinner apparently—or breakfast—it was hard to tell. The food was about as indistinguishable as the flow of time in this place.

The Moomba scampered forward eagerly. A little too eagerly, unfortunately, as his large paws became tangled up in each other and he suddenly hit the floor face first. The trays launched out of his front paws, and Zell just managed to dodge the glob of unknown substance that came hurtling his way. The blonde grimaced afterward.

"Hey!" came an annoyingly familiar voice just outside of the cell. "What was that noise?!"

The asshole guard from earlier suddenly entered, and scowled heavily at the sight of the Moomba sprawled on the floor. "You again!" he growled, stalking forward. The bastard delivered a sharp kick to the poor thing, who whimpered in pain and went flying backward.

Despite the soreness in his body, Zell felt his temper ignite at the cruel treatment of the poor thing, letting out a low growl. He shot to his feet, Selphie soon following suit, a scowl on her own face.

"Yo!" he snarled. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Yeah, you big _meanie!" _Selphie seconded. "Stop that!"

The bastard guard just sneered, whirling around to strike Zell with his club. The sound of Zell catching the weapon before it could come anywhere near his face cracked out through the room with the sound of a gunshot. Zell's fist tightened on the wooden weapon dangerously, meeting the now wide-eyed and nervous guard's stare with a steely look of his own before he effortlessly shoved him backward.

The guard continued stumbling back. As Zell suspected, now that he was faced with a fair fight, the bastard was quick to retreat. "Y-you'll regret that!" he yelped somewhat shakily, before near-falling through the doorway and slamming it shut again afterward.

"He's so mean," Selphie growled under her breath, then sighed and knelt down to the fallen Moomba. The creature, obviously terrified, sat up and skittered back nervously, cringing away from her. "You ok?" the small girl questioned softly, green eyes filled with sympathy. "Doesn't work so well, but . . ." She closed her eyes, then gestured. "Cure!"

A swirl of energy surrounded the orange creature, and the scuff marks slowly faded from its ribs. The Moomba patted at itself in obvious disbelief, then turned back to her with wide-eyed wonder, causing Zell and Selphie both to chuckle good-naturedly.

**

* * *

**

"Well now, since you two seem like you're in a little more of a cooperative mood," the warden murmured nastily to the two teens hanging somewhat limply from their restraints. "I'll ask you again. What is SeeD? Why do they oppose the sorceress?"

Squall struggled to think through the haze of agony eating at him. It was hard. Very hard. He and Seifer had done their best to try and keep each other functioning, but he feared they were quickly losing the struggle. _SeeD . . . Oppose the sorceress? _he wondered to himself dully.

Another guard suddenly entered, barely casting a glance in his and Seifer's direction. "Sir, the missiles targeted for the Garden are ready to launch."

"Excellent," the warden sneered, nodding for the guard to leave them again. He turned toward the two shocked prisoners, grin wide. "Balamb Garden is to be destroyed on charges of training SeeDs to oppose the sorceress," he announced cheerily.

_What?! _Squall screamed in his head, but refused to show any outward reaction beyond gritting his teeth and clenching his fists.

"It's a pity really . . . the Gardens have been a monument for quite some time. Ah, well, orders and orders and Edea wants it destroyed."

"N-no . . ." Squall hissed despite himself. Beside him, Seifer looked equally sickened and enraged.

"You can't do that," the blonde snarled, causing the Warden to laugh.

"Sure we can. And after the Gardens are destroyed, the SeeD hunt will begin." His grin was thin-lipped and filled with gleeful malice. "Every one of your kind will be hunted down and wiped off the face of the planet." His expression hardened. "Unless one of you two give me a reason to think they're no longer a threat. Hm-m? Either one of you ready to talk yet?!"

"I . . . don't understand . . . the question," Squall forced out, pained.

The warden scowled. "Don't fuck with me, boy. Edea says you know something. Now spit it out! What is SeeD all about?!" he punctuated the demand by shocking them both again.

Squall hung from his restraints after it stopped, panting heavily, too tired to try and hold himself up anymore. _SeeD . . . Aren't we . . . mercenaries . . . from Balamb Garden . . . Special Forces . . . ?_

"Well? Have I sufficiently jogged your memories yet?"

Squall just hung there, shaking his head. _I . . . I don't know any . . . anything . . . W-why . . . do . . . you . . . keep . . . asking . . . me . . . Just let me die . . . . _

Despite the pain and the fatigue, Squall still found himself muttering something.

"What's that?" The warden neared where Squall hung limply.

Slowly, the teen lifted his head, revealing narrow blue eyes spitting hate and defiance. He mustered up every bit of what he had left in him and spit as much as he could into the bastard's face. "I said your breath stinks!" he hissed weakly.

The warden fell back with an enraged bellow, while Seifer cackled weakly beside him. "You tell him, Pubes."

The warden furiously wiped the spittle from his face. "Punks," he snarled. "You asked for it!" Squall tried to summon up a measure of fear as he saw the prison guard crank the controls to their maximum setting. Instead he felt only dull resignation just before the violent surge of electricity pumped into his body.

Both of them screamed again.

"How's that? How you like me now, huh?!" the warden snarled.

Squall was beyond caring what that bastard had to say, however. Instead he felt the blackness coming hard over the top of him, and welcomed the peace. _Good-bye . . . ._


End file.
